What Lies Within
by Mickey3
Summary: A routine mission to explore an Ancient research facility turns up much more than the team expected. Shep whump!
1. What Lies Within part 1

**What Lies Within  
By Mickey**

Status: Completed 1/17/2009

Season: 1

Spoilers: None yet

Categories: Angst, Challenge, Drama, Friendship, Whump

Content Warnings: None for part 1 or 2, Language in later parts.

Archive Permission: Ask first. I'll probably say yes.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.

Word Count: 1,185

Author's Notes: Written for the stargatedrabbles list's challenge. Use the phrase: Jack (insert character) swore and yelled, 'Fall back, now!" and/or the following words: Shaft, Odour, Ancient Gene, Green, and bonus word: Tomorrow. I used them all but 1 so far. I'll get the other one in there somewhere! Can you spot which one is missing? I'm American, so I used the American spelling for odor. This takes place after "The Defiant One", but before "Hot Zone". Many thanks to Cheryl and Annie for the beta and to Cheryl (again!) for the title.

* * *

John took a deep breath of the crisp, clean air as he surveyed the lush green surroundings of P46-110. The forest ahead of them seemed to stretch on for miles in every direction. Judging by the overgrowth on the trail before him, it, and the Stargate hadn't been used in a very long time.

"I do not believe anyone has been here in quite some time," Teyla remarked, echoing his thoughts. "It is lovely."

Nodding in agreement, John adjusted his grip on his P-90. There were no signs of life, human or animal, but he wanted to be ready just in case. The ancient database where they'd found the gate address indicated that the planet had held no human life when they'd set up their research facility. There had been no mention of the local wildlife, but that didn't mean there hadn't been any. When he heard the whoosh indicating the disintegration of the wormhole, he ordered, "I'll take point. Rodney, you're behind me. Ford, cover our sixes." Without another word, he moved forward.

"What is this, kindergarten?" Rodney grumbled. "Why are we walking in a row?"

"Because I like playing ducks," John said, smiling. Then seriously, he added, "Stick close. This planet may appear deserted, but there's no way to tell for sure."

McKay complained, again, about how it was a scientific mission and that he should be running things then mumbled something that sound remarkably like "paranoid military grunt with an unhealthy propensity towards shooting first and not asking questions".

A distinctive snort made it's way to John's ears. Apparently, Ford had made a comment that offended Rodney. Grinning, John shook his head and intentionally shut out the rest of the conversation, focusing on the nearly nonexistent trail ahead of them.

Several hours later, the two of them were still at it. "All right, children, that's enough," John called over his shoulder. He heard an audible sigh of relief that he knew came from Teyla. Looking at McKay's flushed face, he called for a fifteen-minute rest. After getting a drink and eating cold MREs, as he didn't want to waste time setting up camp, they were back on their feet.

At first, McKay had stayed silent. John could only imagine what he was thinking about. The ancient database hadn't been specific about what kind of research was being done at the facility, other than that it was related to genetics, but McKay had been sure it must've been important. However, the longer they walked, the more frequently and loudly he began to complain.

Glancing at his watch and the darkening sky, John decided it was time to stop for the night. They'd been walking for over eight hours, not including their lunch break and the short rest break. Based on McKay's calculations and the info from the database, they were nearly three quarters of the way to their goal. They'd made damn good time, despite McKay's frequent protests about the pace he'd set. Spotting a small, less densely forested area not far ahead, he led his team towards it. Detecting no immediate threats, he slid his pack off and declared, "We'll make camp here for tonight."

"We'll make camp here for tonight."

"It's about time," McKay whined as he dropped his pack. "My feet are killing me."

"Not as much as they are killing me," Ford groused.

Looking offended, McKay turned towards the lieutenant and asked, "How can _my_ feet be killing you?"

"Because _I_ had to listen to you whine about them for the last two hours!"

Rodney opened his mouth to say something back, but John cut him off. "That's enough," he barked. "Teyla, McKay, set up camp. Ford and I will set up a perimeter." Before McKay could say anything further, John turned and walked away with Ford following close behind.

As they walked, Ford came up beside John. It was obvious to John that the younger man wanted to talk about something specific, but seemed unsure as to how to approach the subject. "Whatever you have to say just spit it out."

Ford inhaled deeply, holding his breath for a moment then spoke, "Sir, I know that Colonel Sumner didn't want you here because of that thing in Afghanistan."

Before Ford could say anything further, John whirled on him. "How did you know about that?" He demanded.

Ford gulped, taking a step back at the hard look on his commanding officer's face. "I uh, I overheard him discussing it with General O'Neill before we left. He was trying, again, to get you removed from the expedition team."

John relaxed. Getting angry with the lieutenant wouldn't do any good. He was just curious and John couldn't really blame him. "Go on."

"If you don't mind me asking, sir, what happened?"

John sighed. The "incident" was something he would much rather leave buried in the past. As quickly as he could, he informed his junior officer about what had happened on his doomed rescue mission. "Luckily for me," he finished, "they decided against an Article Thirty-Two hearing for disobeying a direct order and went with an Article Fifteen. Not so luckily, depending on how you look at it, my CO put an official letter of reprimand on my record and transferred me to McMurdo, both of which pretty much guarantee that I won't get past the rank of Major."

Ford seemed to consider what he'd been told, remaining silent for several minutes. "For what it's worth, sir, I think Sumner was wrong about you. I think you got the shaft."

John was silent for a moment. Not being the touchy feely type, he gave Ford a small, crooked smile as he nodded, "Thanks."

Ford returned the smile.

Thirty minutes later, John and Ford joined the others around a small fire. Rodney was hunched over his data pad, staring at it intently, a cup of steaming coffee beside him. Teyla was sitting a few feet away eating an MRE.

"Tell me McKay didn't drink all the coffee again," John teased as he sat beside Teyla.

McKay, nose still buried in his work, either didn't hear the remark or simply chose to ignore it. Grinning, Ford sat beside him.

Teyla smiled, "He did not." She handed a steaming cup to John. "I thought you might like some."

Accepting the cup gratefully, John nodded. "Thanks," he replied, pulling his pack close to him and digging out an MRE. "He eat?" he asked, pointing at McKay.

"Yes," Teyla replied, grinning ruefully. "Quite a bit, actually."

John chuckled, finished his meal in silence then checked his watch again. "Alright, it's getting late folks. Let's hit the sack." He dumped the last of his now cold coffee on the ground. "Teyla, it's your turn for first watch, I'll take second then Ford. Rodney, you're last. We'll break camp at 0630." Without another word, John slid into his sleeping bag, which Teyla had thoughtfully setup for him, and drifted into a light sleep. Although they'd only been on roughly three dozen missions together, the team had gelled well. Each member knew what was expected of him or her.

_TBC_


	2. What Lies Within part 2

**Part 2  
By Mickey**

Status: Completed 1/17/2009

Word Count: 1,217

* * *

As he always did, John awoke early. He looked up to see McKay sitting by the smoldering fire, and still rubbing sleep from his eyes, their eyes met.

"What are you doing up so early?" McKay asked as he glanced at his watch. "You still have," he held up a hand as he yawned then finished, "nearly two hours before it's time for the rest of you to get up."

Shrugging noncommittally, John replied, "Not tired anymore."

McKay eyed him skeptically and John was sure the scientist was considering questioning him on that. Instead, he merely shrugged and said, "Suit yourself." He yawned loudly once more before turning his attention to his data pad. Almost as an afterthought and without looking up, he waved towards the fire. "It's almost cold, but there's still some coffee left."

Considering it briefly, John decided against what had to be diesel strength coffee by now and settled for water from his canteen and a power bar. After finishing his breakfast, John spent the remaining time walking the perimeter of their small camp. At precisely 0600, he woke the others. He gave Teyla and Ford time to eat a quick breakfast then ordered them all to break camp and move out. Less than ten minutes later they were back on the trail.

As they started back on their trek, John called over his shoulder, "Let's try to keep the bickering to a minimum today, shall we?" He smiled at the look he was sure was on McKay's face as the scientist grumbled.

"Yes, sir," came Ford's reply. John could almost hear the smile behind the words.

The rest of the journey was made in silence, aside from the odd complaint about his feet from McKay. Three hours later, they could see the outline of the facility on the horizon.

Without breaking his stride, John asked, "McKay, how much further?"

"About another hour or so, I suppose."

While he would have preferred to keep going, John's bladder had other ideas. They took a short break to get a drink, a quick bite to eat, and to relieve themselves then continued on. Nearly an hour later, they arrived at their destination.

"Finally!" McKay babbled excitedly about the possibilities of what secrets were hidden within as he approached the building.

John stopped and held up his hand and made a fist, effectively halting Teyla and Ford. In his excitement, McKay paid no attention and was oblivious as he continued to walk. Sighing, John stuck out his arm and grabbed the scientist's pack as he passed him.

"Hold it right there, McKay."

Jerking to a stop, McKay stumbled. "What?" he asked impatiently.

"We need to check out the area first. Are you getting any readings that might indicate a force field or anything?"

Obviously annoyed, McKay opened his mouth to protest then wisely clamped it shut. "Fine." He held up his data pad, tapping on the screen a few times. Then he answered, "No. Nothing. Can we move on now?"

"No." John looked around by his feet then leaned over and picked up a large rock. "Not that I don't trust you," he said as he tossed the rock at the building. It bounced harmlessly off what looked like a door and fell to the ground. He shrugged at the impatient look on McKay's face. "Stay here," he told his team then he cautiously approached the building. Slowly, he reached out his left hand and touched the door. Nothing happened. Breathing a heavy sigh of relief, he turned back towards his team and waved them forward.

"Do your thing," he said as McKay stopped beside him.

Taking a step back, his P-90 pointed at the door, John watched as McKay studied the door. The scientist looked at his data pad then moved a little to the right and placed his hand on what looked to John like a hand scanner of some kind.

"Humph," McKay grunted. "That should have opened the door," he said in response to his teammates' unasked question.

"Maybe it requires someone with the _natural_ ancient gene to open it," Ford remarked.

McKay threw the Lieutenant a dirty look, but said nothing.

John smiled, noting how Ford had emphasized the word natural. The young man never missed an opportunity to needle McKay. About anything and everything. Especially when it came to the subject that McKay was most sensitive about, the ATA gene. Taking several steps forward, John put his hand on the scanner as Rodney stepped aside.

At first, nothing happened and John began to wonder if the door had simply gotten stuck, or if it had been intentionally sealed. He was about to move his hand away and call it a day when the door slid open with a loud creak.

"What's that smell?" McKay asked, crinkling up his nose in disgust.

John too had noticed the foul odor. "Probably just musty from several thousands of years of disuse," he remarked as he pulled out his flashlight and switched it on. Carefully, he guided his team inside. The further into the facility they got, the more pungent the smell became.

They moved through the facility slowly, carefully examining each room they came to. Most of them were empty and appeared to have never been used; a few seemed to have been sleeping quarters and the rest were storerooms long since emptied of anything important.

There was something about the place that made John uneasy; he just couldn't put his finger on what that something was. The more they explored the facility, the more apprehensive he became. Looking back, he saw that Teyla and Ford seemed to have picked up on it as well. Faces hard, weapons gripped tightly, he could feel the tension emanating from them. Only McKay seemed blissfully unaware.

After nearly an hour of fruitless searching, they entered a very large room. The light from their flashlights was soaked up by the darkness. The persistent odor was stronger here and John nearly gagged. Hearing a retching noise behind him, John turned to see McKay doubled over, hands on his knees, head down. "You okay?"

McKay waved off his concern and stood up. "Fine." He flashed his own flashlight around the room, settling on a computer terminal a few feet to his right. "I think I can get the lights back on."

John motioned to Ford to follow McKay then whispered "Stand guard" to Teyla who nodded briskly and moved off. John had only moved a short distance when overhead lights flickered on. Though dim, they offered enough light to not need their flashlights anymore.

"Sorry," McKay said. "That's the best I can do."

John simply nodded and continued to walk. He could see that the room was even larger than he'd initially thought. The walls, what he could see of them, appeared to be lined with some type of holding tanks. In the dim light, he couldn't tell if they were empty or not. There were several more terminals similar to the one McKay was working at scattered around the room, as well as at least a half dozen exam tables. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. A slight movement in the far left corner caught his eye. John swore and yelled, "Fall back, now!"

_TBC_


	3. What Lies Within part 3

**Part 3  
By Mickey**

Status: Completed 1/20/2009

Word count: 1380

* * *

Startled, McKay looked up from his terminal and asked, "What? Why?"

Grabbing the scientist's vest and shoving him towards the door, John barked, "Damn it, McKay, just do it."

Picking up on the urgency in their commanding officer's tone immediately, Teyla and Ford had already started to move.

"Ford, take point! McKay, glue your ass to Teyla."

John walked backwards, covering the rear as they exited the room. He was almost out when another movement caught his eye. It, whatever it was, was getting closer. Bugger was fast too. It was barely more than a blur. John barely had time to react when he sensed that It was close to him. Acting on instinct alone, John turned, P-90 raised and ready to fire, just as It attacked. The creature moved with lightning speed and without making a sound, knocking the P-90 aside as it swung a massive hand at him.

John was thankful for the tether that kept the P-90 strapped to his neck as it was knocked from his hands. He felt a sudden, sharp pain in his side, but ignored it. He swung as hard as he could with his right hand, connecting with soft tissue and eliciting an ear-piercing howl from the creature. It swung at John again, this time connecting with his head. The force of the blow rocked his head back and made him see stars, but John managed to stay on his feet. Barely.

Staggering back several steps, John struggled to remain upright as he grabbed for his P-90. A burst of light and weapons fire briefly lit the area directly in front of him. The creature let out one last agonizing screech then fell to the ground, unmoving. A hand settled on his shoulder causing John to jump slightly. He turned to see Teyla, P-90 still clutched tightly in her right hand, standing next to him.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

Nodding, he ground out, "Fine. Thanks." He willed the stars to leave his sight and go back into the sky where they belonged. "Ford, Rodney?" he asked.

"They are in the hall heading for the exit. We must hurry."

"Yeah," he agreed. "Go."

Teyla merely nodded in response then left.

John wasted no time. He grabbed his P-90 and held it in front of him as he started to follow Teyla. He staggered once, his head reeling, but caught himself quickly. A few minutes later, he stumbled out of the door and back out into the refreshingly clean outside air. Seeing that all of his team was out, he quickly turned and slammed his hand against the scanner that he'd used to open the door earlier. Once it started to move, his hand went back to his weapon. Much too slowly for his liking, the door creakily slid shut. He was proud to see Ford and Teyla had also focused their weapons on the door. McKay, wisely, was standing behind the three of them.

"What . . . the _hell_ . . . was that . . . thing?" McKay asked between gasping breaths.

"You tell me! You're the scientist. All I know is that it was fast and very nasty," John replied.

When the door finally shut with a soft thud, John breathed a small sigh of relief. He relaxed his grip on his P-90, just a little, and turned to his team. "Everyone okay?"

"Fine, sir." "Peachy." "I am uninjured," all three answered at once.

Moving quickly, they walked several feet away from the facility. It struck John that they must have been in the facility longer than he'd thought. The setting sun cast eerie shadows over the building making it seem much older and creepier than it had seemed when they'd first arrived.

"Let's get some distance between us and that thing then we'll make camp."

Saying nothing, the others fell into line behind their leader. John once again took point with Ford covering their sixes. After walking for nearly an hour, John could no longer ignore the pounding in his head. The creature had hit him very hard and he prayed he didn't have a concussion. "All right folks, lets go to ground." Clarifying for Teyla and McKay, he added, "Boots on, no fire."

Much to John's surprise, McKay didn't make so much as a peep. The scientist was clearly rattled. Even in the pale moonlight, John could still see the fear in the other man's eyes. Hoping the man wasn't going into shock, John asked, "McKay, you okay?"

Watching McKay closely, John was worried when he didn't respond immediately.

After a minute though, he shook himself out of it and answered the question.

"Fine. I'm fine."

John scrutinized him closely. *Like hell you are.* He didn't blame the guy though. That thing had scared the shit out of him too. "You have first watch. Ford's next and then me. Teyla, you're up last tonight."

Everyone nodded their agreement. Suddenly feeling dizzy, John slumped down onto a nearby stump. "Ford," he called to his junior officer, "you and Teyla set up a perimeter."

Ford hesitated for a moment, obviously concerned. John knew Ford was debating questioning the order. After all, John always set up the perimeter. He alternated between Ford and Teyla for help, but he was always involved. "Problem, Lieutenant?" He asked, forcing his tone to stay neutral.

Ford stayed silent a moment longer then answered, "No, sir." Then he turned and did as he was told.

"McKay!" Sheppard forced his voice to stay barely louder than a whisper as he called to the scientist. He'd looked to see the other man attempting to start a fire.

Startled, McKay dropped the unlit match and looked up. "What?"

"What did I just say?" John hissed.

Confusion crossed McKay's face for a moment then realization hit him.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I'm just going to . . . uhhh . . . to go over there," he waved to a nearby bush, "and uhhh . . . relieve myself."

"Wait for Ford." John knew there was no way to be sure that the creature Teyla had killed had been the only one. He also knew there was no way to be sure none of them had gotten out while they'd been exploring the other parts of the facility.

McKay harrumphed, "I'm a big boy, Major. I can go potty all by myself."

To John, he very much looked like a duck whose feathers had been ruffled. It would be pretty damn funny if he didn't suddenly feel so tired. "Wait for Ford," he repeated.

For a moment, John was sure McKay was going to argue with him. Instead, he said, "Fine," then turned his back on him and watched Ford and Teyla.

John shrugged out of his pack. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he was beginning to feel very sore all over. A bone deep weariness washed over him. Opening his pack, John sought out the field med kit carried by all off-world team members, and finding the Tylenol, washed two down with water from his canteen.

Something told him there was more wrong with him than just sore muscles and a headache, but he was just too damned tired to care. He quickly set up his sleeping bag, finishing just as Ford and Teyla returned.

"All is quiet for now," Teyla reported.

Nodding, John said, "Good. Get some sleep. Short shifts tonight. I want to start back to the 'gate early. Hour and-a-half then wake the next person up."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Ford," McKay said, "the major says I need an escort."

Sheppard chuckled lightly as the lieutenant looked at the scientist in confusion. Then he realized what McKay was saying and, smiling, waved a hand in front of himself. "After you."

John watched them for a moment then slid into his waiting sleeping bag. "Night," he murmured to Teyla, who whispered the same to him. Slowly, John drifted into a restless sleep.

_TBC_


	4. What Lies Within part 4

**Part 4  
By Mickey**

Status: Completed 2/08/2009

Word Count: 1838

* * *

It had been McKay's turn for first watch and, as instructed, he woke John precisely one-and-a-half hours after his watch had begun. John groaned into semi-wakefulness as he was not so gently shaken.

"Wha'?" he asked sleepily then remembered why he was being woken up. "Yeah, okay, I'm awake." He batted away McKay's hand as he rolled onto his back, a soft moan escaping his lips at the pain the slight movement elicited.

McKay was unusually silent, not complaining at all about, well, anything. That was enough to shake the last vestiges of sleep from Sheppard. Rubbing his eyes, he slowly raised himself on his elbows, wincing slightly at the pull to his side. "You okay?" he asked the silent scientist.

McKay stared at him blankly and after a few seconds replied, "Huh? What?" Waving a hand absently, he added, "Yeah, I'm fine, just tired."

*Yeah, and I'm the queen of England.* Knowing it wouldn't do any good to argue the point and that McKay desperately needed sleep -even in the pale moonlight, he could see the dark circles under the other man's eyes- he simply said, "Get some sleep."

Nodding, McKay stood and walked to his sleeping bag. John lay still as he watched the other man. Literally within seconds of lying down, the self-proclaimed smartest man in Atlantis was snoring softly.

Forcing himself to ignore the pain, John pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. He was pretty sure he'd cracked at least one rib, but there wasn't much he could do about it for the moment. Once standing, he stretched, trying to relieve some of the tension in his aching muscles, and immediately regretted it. Resisting the urge to grasp his side, John rubbed his hands over his eyes one last time, took a long drink form his canteen then began his patrol.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

A little over an hour and-a-half later, John gratefully slid back into his sleeping bag. He'd woken Ford several minutes earlier, giving the young lieutenant strict instructions to stay on high alert and not to let his guard down.

John's sleep was restless though, and it felt as though he had just lain down when he felt Teyla, much more gently than Rodney had, shaking him awake. He blinked and looked at her through bleary eyes. "Time 's'it?" he asked wearily.

"Oh-five-thirty," she informed him, then with a concerned look added, "Are you alright, John? You usually wake on your own shortly after the last watch has begun. It has been difficult to wake you this morning."

John was silent as he let her words sink in. He was never difficult to wake for a watch and was always, without fail, awake within ten minutes of the beginning of the final watch. Yawning, he lied, "I'm fine."

Looking around, he noticed Ford and McKay throwing each other worried glances as they looked between themselves and John. Annoyed, John pushed himself upright, forcing himself to ignore the pain as he got up. Careful not to make any sudden movements, he rolled up his sleeping bag and repacked his pack. Within minutes, the entire camp was broken down and only a well trained solider would have been able to see even the slightest trace that anyone had been there.

"Move out," John called as he took point. The others fell in line behind him with Ford covering their sixes.

After what felt like days, but was actually only three hours, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Without turning, he knew it was Teyla's before she even spoke.

"Are you alright, Major?"

Not slowing down or looking at her, he replied, "Fine." It was a lie. He wasn't fine, not even close to it, but he really just wanted to get the hell off the damn planet before they met up with anymore of those creatures. Ever since they'd left the facility he'd had a sneaking suspicion that there were more creatures like the one that had attacked him. After all, what were the chances that there was only one? Whatever it was had been strong too, and freakily fast. There was no way to tell if any had escaped the facility while he and his team had been doing their recon.

"You do not look well, Major, perhaps we should rest a while."

He hadn't even realized that he'd slowed down further, or that Teyla was now walking a step ahead of him, looking at him with great concern. As much as he appreciated Teyla's concern, it bugged him for reasons he could not explain. While he realized he'd set a much slower pace then he had the day before, he hadn't realized just how slow until he'd gotten a good look around. They hadn't covered more than two miles, tops. *Shit!*

He wanted to wave off her concern, to order them to keep moving, but he knew he couldn't deny it any longer. No matter how much he hated to admit it, the creature had done some damage to his side. Relenting, he nodded.

"Let's take ten, people."

John smiled slightly as McKay shrugged out of his heavy pack and dropped to the ground where he stood, with a grateful, "It's about time." Eagerly, he dug out an MRE and dug into with gusto.

John watched him with a mixture of amusement and disgust. No MRE tasted that good, no matter how hungry you were. Dropping his own pack to the ground, John turned to Teyla. "I need you to take a look at my ribs," he relented. "I think our little friend did more than just rattle my brains." The dull ache that had started when the adrenaline had worn off and he'd drifted off to sleep the night before had blossomed into near agony. Aside from that, something just didn't feel right. There had been a niggling feeling at the back of his mind that he had more than just bruised ribs.

Considering how badly his side ached, he didn't even want to know what his face looked like. It certainly hurt as much as his side. He could feel the swelling around his cheek and eye without touching it. Just the thought of what his face might look like was enough to make him not want to see a mirror for a week or two, at least.

Looking towards Ford, he caught the lieutenant's eyes and nodded. The young man returned the nod and began to setup a perimeter around their makeshift camp.

Looking back to Teyla, he watched as she removed her pack from her shoulders and quickly located her medical kit. Kneeling beside him, she helped John remove his vest. He winced as the material seemed to stick for a moment before pulling away.

"Why did you not inform us that you had been cut?" she demanded sounding very pissed off.

"Huh?" John looked down to see a dark stain, barely visible on the dark material of his t-shirt, as well as three slits approximately five inches long and a fourth shorter cut. There were also spots of fresh blood on Teyla's hand. His blood. *Shit.*

"I didn't _know_." Not a lie, really. He thought he'd felt something moist on his skin as they'd run out of the building the night before, but the adrenaline had been pumping and he'd just assumed it was sweat. *Stupid, John. Very, very, stupid!* he admonished himself, knowing he should have checked for injuries as soon as they'd made camp. "Honestly, Teyla, I hadn't realized the claws had gone through the vest. I just thought I had some bruised ribs."

Teyla looked at him skeptically, but said nothing more as she helped him remove the bloody shirt. The blood had formed a kind of seal against the wound and removing the shirt hurt like a bitch. He winced in pain as the shirt was lifted away from his side and the material pulled at the wounds. He gasped as Teyla yanked the shirt up to his armpits. She threw him a "serves you right" look then winced in sympathy.

"Hold your shirt up," she said. When John grasped his shirt, she released it. Her eyes softened as she removed some gauze from her kit and dampenrd it with water from her canteen. "This will hurt," she informed him, as if he hadn't already guessed that.

"Yeah, I know, just do it."

He inhaled sharply as she began to clean the wound. Ford, who was still patrolling the area, was shooting worried glances towards him as he circled around the camp. Ignoring the looks, John focused on breathing, staying upright and not passing out.

"This is serious. Doctor Beckett will not be pleased." Reaching back into the kit, she pulled out fresh gauze, antibiotic cream, and an ace bandage. She applied a liberal amount of the cream to the gauze.

John looked up at her, trying to decide if that was her attempt at a joke. "No kidding."

"Ahh," he groaned as she pressed the gauze to his side.

Using the ace bandage, Teyla bound his ribs tightly. Once she finished, he carefully lowered his shirt. When she reached for a pre-dose syringe, he stopped her.

"No," he said firmly.

"You are in pain. The morphine will help."

"No." It came out a little sharper than he'd meant to. "It will dull the pain, but it'll also make me loopy and I need to be alert and ready for anything. We all do." He just couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't out of the woods yet.

Teyla did not look convinced, but didn't press the issue further. Instead, she pressed a package of Tylenol into his hand, handed him a canteen, and stood. He accepted them gratefully, swallowing them with one long drink of water. Grabbing his vest, he got to his feet. Ignoring the pain, he put his vest back on and said, "Let's go."

McKay looked ready to protest, his half-eaten MRE clutched possessively in his hands. Seemingly taking in John's taut features, he simply shoved a few more quick bites into his mouth and went about disposing of the packaging and getting ready to leave.

In only a few minutes, they were all ready to leave. They'd only been walking for less than half-an-hour when John got the eerie feeling they were being followed. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. Teyla moved up beside him.

"I do not believe we are alone," she whispered, obviously not wanting to alarm their easily panicked scientist.

"Yeah, I feel it too." He glanced back as he walked. Ford looked tense, his P-90 gripped tightly in his hands. "I think Ford's picked up on it too. Stay on your toes."

Teyla nodded then fell back into position. John glanced back again as she did and was relieved to see that McKay seemed blissfully unaware. A few minutes later, John heard a slight rustle to his left. Lightning fast, John barely had a chance to raise his P-90 as the creature barreled into him.

_TBC_


	5. What Lies Within part 5

**Part 5  
By Mickey**

Status: Completed 2/13/2009

Word Count: 1,805

Author's Notes: I promise, the next part will reveal a little more about the creatures! Again, thanks to Annie and Cheryl for the beta! Also, a HUGE thanks to all who have been reading and sending feedback!

* * *

"Gaaaa," John cried out in pain as the razor sharp claws of the creature's left hand dug into his right shoulder, cutting through his vest as though it wasn't even there. Its right hand slammed into his chest, effectively pinning him to the ground. He'd lost his grip on his weapon when the creature had struck and could feel it digging painfully into his back. Grasping desperately with his right hand, he removed his knife from its sheath and buried it into the creature's back. It's howl of pain and anger ripped through the air, but it kept him in its vise-like grip.

John's vision began to cloud as he pulled his knife out and prepared to strike it again. Just as he was about to plunge the knife down again, Teyla came up from behind and grabbed a handful of its long, mangled hair. Using her free hand, she drew her own knife across the wretched creature's throat. Blood spurted from severed vessels in its throat as it tried to scream, but as quickly as the attack had begun, it was over. The beast's body gave one last spasm then fell to the ground lifelessly.

Ford, who had been covering McKay, or at least John was almost positive that's what he'd been doing, came up beside Teyla, his P-90 trained on the unmoving creature. Not wanting to take any chances, John scrambled away from it as quickly as his injuries would allow.

Teyla wiped the blood from her knife, sheathed it, and then walked over to John, kneeling beside him to inspect the shoulder wound.

He pushed her hand away. "Not now."

"The wound is deep," she said pulling back the damaged clothing.

"Not now, Teyla," he said, pushing her hand away. "There's no way that's the only one of those things out here and blood and decaying flesh may attract them. Even if they aren't, there may be other wildlife around here that could be. We need to put some space between us."

Teyla looked ready to argue, but reconsidered and gave him a concessionary sigh and held out her hand, pulling John to his feet. Releasing he hand and nodding his thanks, John took a few steps and stumbled, grateful Teyla was close-by to catch him before he could fall. Cursing his weakness, he leaned on her, allowing her to take some of his weight. Ford must have seen him stumble and rushed forward to offer his assistance, but John waved him off.

"Take point," John told Ford. "Teyla and I will cover our sixes." Turning towards McKay, who looked scared out of his mind -and rightfully so- he said, "McKay, stay between us." Pointing to McKay's sidearm, he added, "Get your weapon out." The scientist was qualified, barely, on the P-90, but John had not yet been able to convince the man to actually carry one on missions. His aim was only marginally better with the 9-mil. McKay had also protested being forced to carry even the handgun, but John had held his ground on that one. McKay either carried the weapon, or he stayed on Atlantis. There was no way in hell he was having an unarmed person on his team.

McKay opened his mouth to say something, shut it, then opened it again, "Fine."

John took out his 9-mil and handed it to Teyla, who immediately removed the safety for him then handed it back. At that moment, he was immensely glad that he'd forced himself to fire left-handed. His aim was nearly as good with his left hand as it was with his right. "Move out."

Ford hesitated for just a few seconds as he glanced at John's shoulder then turned and started walking. As they moved out, Teyla still had one arm wrapped firmly around his waist and gave no indication that she had any intention of letting go. John considered shrugging off her help, but Ford had set a brisk pace and he doubted he could keep up for long without help.

Nearly two hours later, Teyla spoke. "John, we must stop. You must let me tend to your shoulder."

Teyla's concern was evident as she spoke and John knew it would be foolish to refuse. His shoulder was throbbing unmercifully and although the bleeding had slowed considerably, he could tell it had not yet stopped. Teyla was also shouldering more of his weight than he cared to admit and he'd been slowing down, forcing the group to slow their pace as well. Besides, he figured they were far enough away from the dead creature now. Glancing at his watch, he realized it was getting close to lunchtime anyway.

"Ford," he called out to the lieutenant. "Let's take a break, thirty minutes, no fire."

Ford stopped; looking at John, he nodded. As the young man turned, John said, "Ford, soon as the area is secure, make sure you eat." Ford nodded again then turned and went about setting up a perimeter.

Teyla helped John get his pack and vest off then helped him sit on a nearby stump. Slowly, painfully, she helped him pull his ruined shirt off. His injured ribs protested almost as much as his shoulder did, and he had to bite back a cry of pain. That done Teyla removed the medical kits from both of their packs. As she set about cleaning his shoulder, his thoughts drifted back to the creatures. Whatever they were, they looked spookily familiar and John couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen them before. He'd stared into the things eyes as he'd stabbed it; they were cold, black, and soulless orbs.

He steadied his breathing as much as possible as Teyla cleaned the wounds on his shoulder. What he really wanted to know was why the creatures seemed to be targeting him? Was it because he was always in the front, just a coincidence, or was it something else?

A sharp pain lanced through his shoulder pulling a groan from him. He looked at Teyla, who winced in sympathy.

"Sorry," she said apologetically.

"'s okay. Just . . . owww . . . try to hurry . . . hurry up . . . please." John knew Teyla was working as fast as she could, but it damn well _hurt_! He groaned again as she pressed a bandage to the wounds on the back of his shoulder then one to the front. She used the ace bandage from his kit to wrap his shoulder. Once done, she rubbed some of the antibiotic cream gently onto the abrasions on his face.

"I must really look a sight, huh?" he asked Teyla, wincing as she touched a particularly sensitive spot.

Obviously avoiding the question, she simply said, "It is a good thing we are close to the Stargate. We are running low on bandages."

He watched silently as she cleaned up the mess and put the unused supplies away.

John hadn't realized he'd closed his eyes until he felt a hand gently shake him. Looking up, he saw Teyla squatting in front of him, an open MRE in her free hand. The Athosian women looked at him with concern.

"You must eat. You need to keep up your strength."

Briefly, John considered refusing the food. He wasn't really hungry. His better judgment won out though and he accepted the food gratefully. Looking at what she'd given him, he couldn't help the small smile that played across his lips. She'd opened all of the inner packages and had given him one that was easy to eat one-handed.

"Did Ford eat?" he asked Teyla.

"He is eating now." She pointed to her left and John turned to see the lieutenant eating his own MRE. He couldn't help the feeling of pride as he noticed that the young man's attention was not on his food; he was constantly scanning the area, only occasionally looking at what he was eating.

"What about McKay?"

"He is also eating."

John looked to see Rodney half heartedly eating his MRE. It struck him as odd that the scientist had not yet finished eating, but he chose not to remark on it. Nodding, John said, "You need to eat, too."

"I have already prepared my lunch," Teyla replied, pointing to another open MRE a few feet away. Opening his canteen, she helped him to take a drink, then set it next to him on the ground still open.

Ten minutes later John had eaten all he could. Teyla gave him a disapproving look, but said nothing as she took the not even half-eaten food from him. "Time to move out," he informed her. Help me get my shirt back on, please."

"You should rest," Teyla told him as she picked up his shirt.

"No time. We don't how many more of those things are out there, or how close they are. We need to get to the 'gate. Preferably _before_ nightfall."

Teyla nodded and helped John with the painful process of putting his shirt back on. He resisted the urge to scream as she helped him with his vest.

"Perhaps we should divide the contents of your pack between mine and Lieutenant Ford's. You should not be carrying anything in your condition."

John opened his mouth to protest, but Ford, who had come up beside him without him realizing it, spoke, "Teyla's right, sir. She and I should put your things into our pack, or we should just leave yours behind."

At this point, leaving his pack behind was not an option. John knew they were right though, he had lost a lot of blood and was really beginning to feel lethargic. Carrying the extra weight would only wear him out faster and slow the group down. Finally, he relented. "Fine, just do it quickly."

Moving quickly Teyla and Ford emptied his pack and divided the contents evenly amongst their own. John was surprised when, without a word, McKay picked up his now empty pack and took it upon himself to carry it. Without a way to contact Earth, their supplies were limited, even something as simple as a pack would be difficult to replace.

Without being told to, Ford did one last sweep of the area. Once he finished he came back to where John sat and helped him to his feet.

"Ford, you're on point again, Teyla and I will cover our sixes. McKay, stick close to Ford. Stay alert, people. I seriously doubt we've seen the last of those creatures." John was unable to repress his shudder as he mentioned the creatures.

Everyone nodded in agreement. Ford started walking, followed closely by McKay. John stifled a moan as he put his injured arm around Teyla's shoulders and she wrapped an arm around his waist. Together, they set off behind the others, John's 9-mil still clutched tightly in his left hand ready to fire if necessary.

_TBC_


	6. What Lies Within part 6

**Part 6  
By Mickey**

Status: Completed 2/08/2009

Word Count: 1,695

Author's Notes: As promised, the secret of the creatures is revealed! Sorry if the change in "PoV" from Sheppard to Rodney throws anyone at all, but I felt that that part of this chapter needed to be told through him. Thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing!

* * *

John sighed in disgust. It seemed like they had hadn't gotten very far at all and, once again, he was leaning much more heavily on Teyla than he intended too. He really needed to rest. And pee, he _really_ needed to pee.

Teyla looked at him in concern as he stopped. "Break time," he said and she nodded in agreement. Then he addressed the rest of the group, "Let's take fifteen."

Teyla moved to help him sit, but he waved her off. "Keep an eye on him," he told her nodding towards McKay. The scientist hadn't said much of anything all day, nor had he made any of his usual snide remarks. All of which had John just a little concerned.

"Ford," he called out to the junior officer, who turned and came to his side. "I need a hand."

"I can assist you, Major."

"No!" John exclaimed.

John glared at Ford, who had chuckled. Then he spoke to Teyla again, who was looking at little baffled.

"I . . . uh . . . I need to pee." He said a silent prayer that he was not blushing.

Smiling, Teyla nodded and John was relieved that she didn't seem offended. He wasn't sure how he felt about the fact that she looked rather amused. Motioning to Ford, he carefully slid his arm from Teyla's shoulder to the lieutenant's.

The two men moved to a more wooded area as quickly as John's injuries would allow. It wasn't easy to support himself and do his business basically one handed, but as long as he _could_ stand, there was no way in hell he was going to have anyone help him with this particular task. Ford was there just to make sure he didn't fall on his face.

Or piss all over himself.

Finishing as fast as he could, he zipped his pants up then leaned on Ford again as they made their way back to McKay and Teyla. Spotting a large rock a few feet from McKay, John motioned for Ford to help him over to it. He sighed heavily as he sat and patted Ford on the shoulder. "Thanks."

Acknowledging the gesture, Ford moved away and stood where he could keep a lookout for any more of the creatures. John found that he was damn proud of the kid. He was a fine Marine. It was a shame, he thought, that the young man had chosen to be a jar-head rather than join the Air Force.

John winced as a sharp pain shot through his abdomen. The injury to his shoulder was throbbing, but the pain was tolerable. His abdomen though, was another story. It hurt so badly he almost wanted to cry. He was surprised that he didn't have a headache with the way the left side of his face ached. His eye had started to swell a bit blurring his vision.

Wordlessly, Teyla pulled her med-kit out of her bag and dug around for something. Obviously finding what she was looking for, she stood and walked over to John, presenting him with a package of Tylenol. Smiling his thanks he was silently grateful she hadn't encouraged him to eat anything, the way his stomach was rolling, he was pretty sure it would only come back up a few minutes later. The only thing worse than a cold MRE was a regurgitated MRE. Popping the pills, he washed them down with water from his canteen and pocketed the blister pack.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rodney decided to take advantage of the extra break to look over what little data he'd been able to retrieve from the computer terminal before they'd been forced to leave the Ancient facility. He'd meant to do it the night before, but he'd been so rattled by the events that had transpired he'd spent nearly his entire watch pacing around their small camp. Punching a few keys on the small laptop, Rodney blanched as he realized what he was looking at. "They're Wraith," he blurted out.

He winced in sympathy when Sheppard bolted upright, instantly alert, face tight against the pain. "Where?" he demanded raising his P-90.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean I saw any just now." He gave Sheppard and the others, who also had their weapons ready to fire, an apologetic look before continuing, "The Ancients were doing genetic research on the _Wraith_! Not just research, they were tampering with the Wraith's _DNA_." As he looked around he could see his own feelings about this revelation plainly on the faces of his teammates. The revolution and anger in their eyes mirrored what he felt in his heart. How could they do that? Worse, how could they leave those . . . those . . . things alive?

"McKay," Sheppard growled at him, "please tell me this is your idea of a very sick joke!"

Looking back to his data-pad, Rodney chose to ignore the remark. He knew Sheppard was in a great deal of pain and so he was willing to let the remark slide. As he read further, he had to resist the urge to throw-up. Apparently, the Ancients hadn't stopped at simply manipulating the Wraiths' DNA.

"Son-of-bitch!" he exclaimed. "It looks like they were trying to create some kind of killing machine to use against the Wraith. They spliced the test subjects' DNA with a creature very much like a feral dog, greatly increasing their sense of smell and their killer instincts."

Rodney continued to read without looking up to see the others' reactions. Really, though, he didn't need to look at them, he was pretty damn sure he knew how they felt. Repulsed, just like him.

"Oh, jeez," he muttered in horror. "One of the scientist's working on the project got the _brilliant_," he spat the word as if it were a curse, "idea to throw his or her own DNA into the mix." Finally looking up, he stared at Sheppard with a mix of pity and, perhaps, a tinge of fear. "I think that's why they seem to be targeting you."

"I'm not sure I follow," Sheppard said, although Rodney was almost positive he did. The Air Force major was not as dumb as Rodney had first assumed he was. Cutting the wounded man some slack, he elaborated. "Possibly because of the combination of mixing, for the purpose of this discussion we'll refer to the quack as "he", his DNA and that of the dog-thing, the Wraith creatures are able to either sense or _smell_ the ATA gene!" Thinking for a moment, he muttered, "What the hell was that nut thinking?"

Teyla opened her mouth to say something and Rodney waved her off, "That was a rhetorical question, don't answer that. Anyway, the creatures began to mutate beyond the "scientist's", if you want to call them that, control and killed three people. The project was shut down and the planet abandoned."

"Shit," Sheppard muttered. "Bastard's just never know when to stop."

Rodney had to agree with that assessment. For a so-called "vastly superior race", the Ancients were really starting to show just how human, and flawed, they really were. *And what does that say about you?* Rodney shook his head to rid himself of the thought. He may be a _little_ cocky and just a tad arrogant, but he would _never_ mess with the DNA of any being. Especially not the Wraith and most definitely not like the Ancients had done.

"So they are targeting Major Sheppard because he is a carrier of the Ancient gene?" Teyla asked, though the look on her face made it clear she understood perfectly that that was exactly what was happening.

"Yes."

"Then why don't they target you as well? You have had the gene therapy." Rodney watched as the lieutenant glanced worriedly at their commanding officer.

"The ATA therapy isn't as strong as the natural gene. Maybe it isn't strong enough for them to sense," Rodney answered with a shrug.

"Doesn't matter," the major replied. "Let's move out. I want to be back at the 'gate before nightfall."

Looking up at the sky, Rodney was almost positive that wasn't going to happen. The major's injuries were slowing them all down. He was a little awed at the man's determination and will. Not to mention his threshold for pain. He knew that, if he were in the major's shoes, he'd be curled up on his side crying for the damn doctors!

And drugs, lots and lots of drugs. The good stuff that Beckett liked to squirrel away and hide from him, even when he was in awful pain.

"I should check your wounds again," Teyla said as she moved toward Sheppard. Proving just how stubborn he was, Sheppard waved her off. "When we stop for dinner. Right now, we need to get moving."

Rodney wondered if Sheppard was so anxious to move because he thought there were more of those creatures close by. He glanced anxiously around the small clearing. Seeing Teyla move, he watched as she helped the major get unsteadily to his feet. Already, he noticed, the injured man was leaning more heavily on Teyla than he had been before, even immediately after the second attack. He couldn't help but wonder how much further the stubborn man could go before his body gave up the ghost and he collapsed, forcing the others to find a way to carry him home. Sure they would not make it more than a couple of miles before they had to stop for a break again, Rodney glanced at his watch and sighed. At their current pace, even if they were able to make to the Stargate without making camp for the night, it would be at least another ten hours before they made it back.

*No way in hell he's going to make it.* Stealing a glance at the major, Rodney noticed that the stubborn, hardheaded fool seemed a bit shaky now where he hadn't been before. His face, the half that wasn't an ugly purplish/bluish/black bruise, looked a little flushed.

With one last concerned glance at Sheppard -whom he was kinda, sorta, in a weird way, beginning to think of as a friend-, he took his sidearm back out and followed closely behind Lieutenant Ford.

_TBC_


	7. What Lies Within part 7

**Part 7  
By Mickey**

Status: Completed 3/24/2009

Word Count: 2,129

Author's Notes: Sorry it has been so long between this chapter and the last, but my muse was NOT being cooperative, at _all_, for a while. Many thanks to Annie and Cheryl for the beta.

* * *

It took all of his strength, what little he had left, to keep himself from stumbling as his foot struck yet another rock. It seemed like they'd been walking for days, but he knew it had only been about two hours. He really didn't like the fact that Teyla was supporting much more of his weight now than she'd had to do earlier in the day, or even the night before, but there wasn't much he could do about it. The shoulder wound still throbbed, but it was bearable, and when he concentrated strictly on walking, he could forget it for a while.

Like now. It almost felt numb and he prayed it was only from the position it was in over Teyla's shoulder. He hoped it wasn't a sign that the injury was more serious than it appeared. Even just the thought of losing his arm, or having it injured seriously enough to lose partial control of it was a frightening thought. After all, they weren't many, if any, one armed pilots around.

Especially in the military.

He wasn't ready to give it up, any of it. Not yet. Not _ever_. At least not until he was too old and gray to know what a plane, or a Jumper, was even if it jumped up and bit him on the ass.

If, no, _when_ they made contact with Earth again, he would not only lose his flight status, it was highly likely he'd also be returned to Earth and given a medical discharge from the Air Force.

The wound to the side was another matter entirely. Every step sent agonizing stabs of pain through his abdomen. John had barely been able to keep from gasping or groaning a few times, other times he couldn't stop it. He hated the concerned looks Teyla threw at him or exchanged with Ford with each noise that escaped him. It irked him although he knew it shouldn't. They had good reason to be concerned and he knew it. Hell, _he_ was concerned, although for different reasons.

He was more worried about _them_ than his own welfare.

John couldn't catch himself this time and stumbled as his feet came into contact with a large root. This time he went down. His left knee collided painfully with the hard ground and he grunted loudly. At the sound of his groan, even McKay turned and looked at him with a mixture of concern and fear.

"I'm fine," he growled, preempting another request from Teyla -she'd already tried three times in the past forty minutes- that they take a break. For a moment he though she might argue with him, but she merely nodded and helped him back to his feet.

After another fifteen minutes of stumbling along, and three more falls, John finally admitted to himself that he really, really needed a break. He was tired and the pain in his side had just kicked up another notch, something he hadn't thought possible just a few short minutes ago. Besides, his head was beginning to throb unmercifully.

Finally, John relented. He glanced at his watch and noted the time; it was nearly five o'clock. Stopping, he announced, "Dinner time folks."

Teyla's relief was evident as she guided John towards a nearby large tree and helped ease him down to the ground. "You are a stubborn man, Major Sheppard," she admonished as he leaned back against the tree, panting in pain.

John really wanted to say something snappy and witty, anything at all for that matter, but right at that moment it was all he could do to not groan out loud at another stabbing pain in his side.

"I will check your wounds now," she told him, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Not that he intended to argue anyway. He was too damn tired and it hurt too damn much. Instead, he merely nodded and leaned his head back against the tree. He watched as she wordlessly went about gathering the supplies she'd need to clean and redress his wounds. What he really wanted to do was to lie down, curl his body into a tight ball against the pain and sleep for the next week or three. Instead, he kept his eyes open, moved forward to make it easier for Teyla to get his vest and t-shirt off and tried not to scream when she began removing the blood and pus soaked bandages.

"The wound has become infected," Teyla informed him as she examined his side.

"Yeah," he gritted out as he glanced down at the inflamed tissue surrounding the cuts. "I see that." And feel it. He kept that thought to himself.

When Teyla poured the antiseptic onto the wounds, it was all he could do to keep himself from lashing out at her physically. His hands curled into tight balls around fist-fulls of his pants legs. She finished cleaning up the abdominal wounds then moved to his shoulder.

Teyla checked the wound to the front first then eased John forward again. "It does not appear to be infected," she informed him as she examined the puncture wounds on the back of his shoulder. She cleaned them quickly and John grimaced against the burn of the antiseptic. He opened his eyes after a few seconds and did a visual scan of the area, not just to get his bearings, but also to have something to concentrate on other then the intense pain.

McKay sat a few feet away, eyeing him with concern, but saying nothing. Ford, who had already established a perimeter, also threw him worried glances. Looking back at McKay, he ordered, "Eat."

McKay said nothing. For what seemed like an eternity, he made no attempt to move, just kept staring at John. For a moment, John thought McKay would argue or make some kind of wisecrack. Instead, he finally reached into his pack and removed an MRE. John watched him for several minutes. Apparently finding something fascinating in the package, he didn't look up again.

"Take these."

John started at Teyla's voice. He'd been so focused on McKay, he hadn't realized that Teyla had finished cleaning and redressing his wounds. Reflexively, he put out his hand and took the offered pills and water.

At his skeptical look, Teyla told him, "It is only Tylenol."

John hadn't realized just how badly his head was beginning to pound. Knowing they would help with that if nothing else, he nodded and popped the pills into his mouth, washing them down with two long swallows of water. He handed the canteen back to Teyla and said, "Thanks."

Wordlessly, she stood and walked towards Ford. They kept their voices low, much to his irritation, so he couldn't hear what they were saying. He didn't really need to. He knew what they were talking about; his condition and their rapidly dwindling medical supplies. He'd watched Teyla intently as she'd cleaned up and packed the remaining supplies. The antiseptic was nearly gone, there was only enough bandages left to change them once, maybe twice more if she stretched them. The only thing they seemed to have plenty of was morphine and he wasn't far enough gone to allow her to administer that just yet.

Several minutes later, after making a quick stop by her pack and removing something, Teyla approached him again and handed him two more pills and an MRE.

"I know you may not feel very hungry at this time, but you must eat. You need to keep your strength up and it is required that you take the antibiotics with food.

Just the word food made John's stomach rebel, but he knew she was right. He had barely eaten anything for breakfast and had skipped lunch. He couldn't afford to miss dinner as well. He accepted her offerings and examined them. Noticing she'd given him chicken soup -or at least what the Air Force tried to convince them was chicken- with crackers and smiled gratefully. Hopefully, he'd be able to keep that down. Knowing that the candy would only come back up the way it went down, he removed the package of M&M's.

"McKay," he called out to the scientist, who was still quietly eating his MRE. McKay looked up and John tossed him the bag of candy.

McKay looked at it in surprise for a few seconds before giving John a small smile and a muttered, "Thanks." Then he turned his attention back to his half eaten dinner.

"Don't get used to it," John said then opened the packages of soup and crackers and began to eat. He ate his food slowly, making sure to chew it up into very, very tiny pieces hoping it would help to keep it down. Halfway through the soup, he stopped. He simply couldn't eat anymore and feared it would all come back up if he tried. Putting the empty package of crackers and half-eaten soup aside, he pulled out his canteen and took a long drink from it to wash the antibiotics down. Silently, he prayed his dinner, and the pills with it, would stay were they belonged.

Looking up, John saw Teyla clean up the remains of her own MRE. He watched as she put the garbage into a bag then into her back. That done, she relieved Ford. The young Lieutenant made his way over to John.

Interrupting before he had a chance to say anything, John said, "Before you ask, I'm fine." Inhaling sharply and closing his eyes against a sudden sharp pain in his side, he breathed out slowly. Once the pain had passed, he opened his eyes again and ordered, "Eat."

For a split second, he thought his junior officer was going to argue, but the younger man simply nodded and moved off to where he'd left his pack. John watched him for a few minutes to make sure he'd do as he was told. Then he picked up his Berretta, which he'd set by his leg when they'd stopped and checked his clip. Satisfied with the number of rounds he had left, John crossed his arms over his chest, the Berretta held loosely in his grip ready to be used if the need arose.

A soft rustling sound to his left sent John sitting up like a shot, gun ready to shoot any adversary. He glanced around quickly and forced himself to settle down as he realized there were no enemies around. None that had made their presence known anyway. He realized he must have nodded off for a minute.

John looked at his teammates to see three sets of worried eyes looking back at him. It was _really_ starting to grate on his nerves. He appreciated their concern, he honestly did, but it was bordering on obsessive now. Christ! It wasn't like he was just going to keel over and die any second now. He was willing to concede that his condition was deteriorating rapidly, much too quickly for any of their liking, but damn it, he wasn't dead yet!

Not even close.

John looked to his left again, attempting to identify what he'd heard just a moment ago. Looking back to his team again, he realized that none of them had heard the sound. Was it because they were so focused on him, or had he dreamed it?

Glancing at his watch, he groaned. He hadn't just nodded off for a minute or two; he'd been sleeping for nearly twenty minutes! For a moment, he considered bawling his team out for allowing it then reconsidered. Probably wouldn't do any good anyway, he figured. They were looking at him with expressions that seemed to be almost daring him to say something about it. Instead, he sighed, realized that, short as it was, the nap had actually helped quite a bit, and schooled his expression. His arm and face still ached and his gut still felt like it was on fire, but the pain in his shoulder and head had gone down a notch or two to a dull throb. For that, at least, he was grateful, especially about his head. Walking was just sooo much easier when your head didn't feel like it wanted to fall off.

Or explode.

"Let's go," he ordered.

"You should rest, sir," Ford said just as Teyla said, "You need to rest."

"We have, _maybe_, three or four hours of daylight left, people. Move out."

The look on John's face and the hard edge his voice had taken on must have convinced them that arguing was not in their best interest. Without further comment, his team went about collecting their packs and making sure they would leave nothing behind. Teyla then moved to his side and, once again, helped him to his feet.

_TBC_


	8. What Lies Within part 8

**What Lies Within part 8  
By Mickey**

Status: Completed 4/01/2009

Word Count: 3,815

Author's Notes: This chapter changes PoV's a little bit too, from Teyla to John than back to Teyla. I _finally_ managed to work in the final challenge word. Part 9 is done and is with my beta's. Hopefully, it'll be ready to post in a day or so.

* * *

To say Teyla was concerned was an understatement. After walking for nearly three and-a-half hours, Major Sheppard was still stubbornly soldiering on, and as darkness approached he was beginning to lean on her quite heavily. Frowning, she could feel sweat soaking through his shirt, even though the evening air was not hot. Barely brushing the bare skin of his hand, she was alarmed at the heat she registered. With each step he took, he stumbled but true to his stubborn nature, he'd steadfastly refused to stop, despite Teyla's attempts to let the team rest for the night. Cursing the man's resilience, Teyla sighed softly as Sheppard tripped over a small branch -she knew he could not keep this up for much longer. _Time to try again_, she mused.

"Major, you must rest," she insisted. "Pushing on at this time would not be wise."

The major, if he'd even heard her words, made no attempt to acknowledge them. Teyla glanced at his face. It was flushed; one didn't have to be a doctor to see the man was developing a fever. His eyes seemed focused on something slightly to their left and she wondered if he was beginning to hallucinate, or if he had sensed something she had not.

"John?"

Sheppard remained silent, alert. Saying nothing, he stumbled again but his eyes never changed their focus. Teyla realized that while he was getting weaker with each step, that wasn't what had caused the major to stumble. He was concentrating so intently on scanning the area to his left that he was not paying attention to where he stepped.

"Do you see something?" she asked in a whisper.

After a few more seconds of silence, he finally replied.

Then all hell broke loose.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

John wasn't paying any attention to Teyla. Several times after they started walking, he'd heard the rustling noise again. It was soft, and for a while, he thought he'd been hearing things, especially when he'd begun to feel the fever taking hold of him. He hadn't actually heard anything for some time now, but his instincts told him that they were being followed. Whatever was tracking them seemed to have moved away from them for a while, but now he was certain it was getting close again. He wondered if it was one of those Wraith-creatures. Had it moved away to meet up with more of it's kind and now returned with reinforcements? Perhaps it had seen them take out its buddies?

Finally acknowledging Teyla, he replied, "No, but I get the distinct feeling we're being followed."

This time when it attacked, John was ready.

For the first one anyway.

John raised his Berretta and fired three quick shots dead center into the creature's chest, watching with satisfaction as it fell to the ground with a strangled howl. A second creature came barreling out of the woods, a third close on it's heels. Teyla and Ford took care of them with ease. John aimed at a fourth one that was coming from McKay's direction and was mildly surprised when McKay actually raised his gun, fired several rounds, and _actually_ killed the damn thing. He was a little concerned that the man had done it with his eyes shut. Making a mental note to talk to McKay about that when they got back to Atlantis, John turned to survey the woods to his left. He had a bad feeling that it wasn't over yet.

Hearing another one behind him, John tried to turn. This time, he wasn't fast enough and he found himself being slammed into the ground with a bone crunching force. His Berretta was sent flying and landed several feet away from him. Well beyond his reach. Landing on his already wounded side, he felt something give as a separate, white-hot pain shot through his body. Gasping for breath and clutching his abdomen against the agony, he could do nothing to defend himself. He rolled onto his back and attempted to reach for his weapon, but it was no use. Even that slight movement sent agonizing waves of pain through his battered body. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to will the pain away.

An eternity later, and with some effort, John pried his eyes open to see the worried faces of Teyla and McKay looking back at him. Although he couldn't see him, he knew Ford must be close by, probably making sure they'd gotten of the creatures and setting up a perimeter.

"Major, were you injured further?" Teyla asked. From the look on her face, John guessed it wasn't the first time she'd asked that question.

Still gasping, John answered, "Not . . . cut. . . . Think . . . some . . . something . . . broke . . . though," he gasped as Teyla, who'd finally managed to pry his hands away from his side, pressed down on a particularly sensitive spot. He inhaled sharply and gasped, "Oh . . . yeah . . . def . . . definitely . . . bro . . . broke . . . broken." He lay silently for a moment as he tried to catch his breath. He tried to take a deep breath and regretted it immediately as a stabbing pain shot through his chest. "Need to . . . sit . . . up."

"Are you sure that is wise? Perhaps you should lie down for a few minutes," Teyla said. She was still kneeling beside him, her weapon was back in her hand, and she seemed to be scanning the area.

Nodding, John replied, "No. Not really." He gasped again then added, "Need . . . to any . . . anyway."

John groaned as Teyla helped him into a sitting position. Although moving had hurt like a son-of-a-bitch, he felt marginally better once he was partially upright. It made breathing a little bit easier at least.

"How are you feeling?"

_Peachy_, John wanted to say. _Just fine and dandy, thanks for asking_. He settled for, "Hur . . . hurts . . . breathe," and it did. A lot. John involuntarily groaned again.

"Do you wish to lie back down?" Teyla asked making a move as if to help John lay back down.

"No! . . . No, I'm . . . I'm . . . good. Thanks." Okay, so that was a lie, but lying down would not help him at this point. It would just make it hurt worse. Besides, he needed to be able to see what was happening, and he couldn't do that lying down. That position would also put him at a big disadvantage if the creatures attacked again. He couldn't shoot them if he couldn't see them.

Teyla's face flashed her displeasure as she nodded. Without a word, she stood and walked the few feet to where Ford was standing and was joined a few seconds later by McKay.

"Aaah," John groaned as he tried to raise himself a little higher. Resisting the urge to panic, he forced himself to take slow, shallow breaths, forcing himself to remain calm. Panicking wouldn't do him or his team any good and could further aggravate his injuries. He checked the clip of his weapon -empty- as he'd figured. Replacing it in its holster, he turned his attention back to his team. By the look on Ford's face, Teyla had filled him in on the details of John's new injuries. It annoyed the hell out of him that they were whispering in an attempt to keep him from hearing what they were saying, which, of course, meant that they were either talking about him or discussing their next move. Probably both.

Apparently, they didn't realize that his hearing was better than average.

Ford spoke first. "We'll have to make camp here tonight. We can set up a defensible perimeter then break camp at first light."

John heard McKay's panicked voice next, "He may not make it until tomorrow!"

He watched as Teyla put her hands on the scientist's shoulders in an attempted to calm him down. In a lower voice he heard her placating reply. "We have no other choice, Doctor McKay. The major's injuries are severe; he cannot walk any further tonight. Lieutenant Ford is correct; we will have to wait until first light. At that time, we can make a stretcher and carry him the rest of the way back to the 'gate."

Now he had moved past annoyed and onto angry. He might be injured, but he was still alive and awake. "He is _not_ dead yet, _can_ still hear, and _he_ is still in command here," John called out, grimacing against the sudden increase in tempo the little man with the jackhammer in his head had taken. He was pleased he'd managed to keep the pain out of his voice when he'd spoken and, at the same time, been able to keep the anger and command authority in it. He didn't like having his authority over-ridden when he was still capable of making decisions for himself. As long as he was awake and lucid he was damn well still in command of this mission!

"We will rest here for another fifteen minutes then we'll move out. We can't be more than five or six miles from the 'gate." John stifled another groan then continued, "If we keep moving we should be able to make it there before morning. We don't know how many more of those creatures there are or how close they are, and I really don't want to find out."

Ford, followed closely by the others, walked towards him. John did not miss the determined look in his junior officer's face and braced himself for the argument he was sure was coming.

"Sorry for leaving you out of that, sir, we shouldn't have tried to shut you out."

"Why do I feel a "but" coming on?"

Ford looked a little nervous but also resolved. "Respectfully, no, sir."

"Excuse me!" John barked, not entirely surprised.

Standing straighter, Ford began, "I said-"

"I _heard_ what you said, _Lieutenant_." John bit his lip to keep from crying out as he pushed himself up even further so that he was sitting straight up. "I am the commanding officer here, _Lieutenant_," John began, again emphasizing the younger man's rank, "and _I_ give the orders. We move out in fifteen minutes. That is an order."

"No, sir. You are in no condition to be walking anywhere, especially since it's getting dark. In less than half-an-hour we'll be lucky if we can see five feet in front of us."

In his mind, John new he was being stubborn and, perhaps, a bit foolish, but having his authority so blatantly under minded first by the three of them together, then to have Ford disregard a direct order, he was past angry now and had moved on to royally pissed. He opened his mouth to say more when Teyla and McKay stepped up on either side of Ford, matching looks of concern and determination on their faces.

Teyla spoke first. "Major, I understand your anger with us for speaking behind your back and I do not blame you for it, but you must realize that this course of action is unwise. Your injuries are serious and you are developing a fever. You need to rest," she reasoned. Sighing, she added, "We are all tired."

Against his will, John felt his anger fading. He wanted to be angry, but he knew she was right. She and Ford both were. The pain was getting worse and he could feel the fever creeping up on him. His face was beginning to feel warm and the pounding in his head was reaching a crescendo.

With a heavy sigh, he relented, "Fine. We'll make camp here for the night. I'll take first watch," as soon as he'd made the decision, he'd known there'd be opposition. He held up his hand against the protests he knew were coming. "Don't argue with me on this one. I know I'm not exactly in the best shape here, but even you admitted you're all tired. Any idiot could see that you three are _exhausted_. You need to rest too. So, like I said, I'll take first watch, Teyla, you take second, Ford then McKay. Were moving out at oh-five-hundred." His tone left no room for argument and the others nodded in agreement. "Lights out in fifteen, kids." Besides, he hated feeling so damn useless.

Maybe he should have just let them take longer shifts and gone to sleep. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. It would mean admitting, to himself and his team, that he was too weak to be much use for anything. It would also mean giving up command, if not right that minute then soon. After all, if he couldn't take a simple two-hour watch then, maybe, he was in no condition to lead. He simply wasn't ready to do admit that. Not as long as he could still hold his weapon steady and hit his target.

John watched for a few minutes as his team set up camp. For a split second, he considered getting up to help then realized that would be a very bad idea. Instead, he simply watched Ford walk the perimeter. After a few minutes, he turned his attention to McKay. The scientist was hunched over his data pad. Occasionally, he would look up at John then, seeing John looking back, quickly turned his attention back to whatever he'd been looking at.

After a few minutes of watching McKay, John leaned his head back against the tree. Resisting the strong urge to close his eyes, he tried to focus on watching the tree line in front of him. The fingers of his left hand remained firmly curled around his Berretta. Tempting as it was -and with his head pounding the way it was, it was so _very_ tempting- he knew he couldn't afford to close his eyes. If he did, he knew wouldn't be able to stay awake.

John's eyes began to close and he yanked them open. He yawned and shook his head, immediately regretting it. Blinking rapidly did nothing to shake the lure of sleep from his eyes. Yawning again, this time his head started to dip towards his chest. After a few seconds he woke with a jerk and grimaced at the figurative ice pick that had just been slammed into the back of his head. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand didn't help either.

Then again, closing them just for a minute couldn't hurt. . . .

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Teyla had considered arguing with the major when he'd stubbornly told them he would take the first watch. He was in no condition to do much of anything if the creatures attacked again. However, she knew him well enough by now to know that he would not be dissuaded, and she was almost positive the creatures would not attack again that night. With any luck, the major would simply fall asleep. Then she and Ford could split his time for watch and add it onto their own.

Teyla was relieved when she looked over and saw Major Sheppard's eyes flutter shut again and finally remain closed. Waiting till she was sure he was fully asleep, she rose and approached him, testing his forehead for signs of the heat she'd felt earlier. His fever had elevated slightly, and while she was sure he was far from dying tonight as Doctor McKay had predicting, he was definitely very ill and getting worse. She checked his pulse as Doctor Beckett had shown her –it was strong but thready. Standing, she approached the lieutenant.

"How is he?"

"He is asleep," she whispered. Although Teyla doubted the major could hear her this time, she did not wish to take any chances. "His fever will get worse throughout the course of the night, but there is not much we can do about that."

"Yeah, I know. Maybe I should give him some morphine. It will help with the pain, which should help him sleep better."

The lieutenant did not look happy about his own suggestion, but he made a valid point. Knowing him as she did, Teyla knew he would feel it was his responsibility, especially since they both knew what Major Sheppard's reaction was likely to be when he found out.

"Agreed," Teyla said. "But first we should get him to try to eat something. He needs more of the antibiotic and it must be taken with food." Ford nodded in agreement and Teyla asked, "Do you want me to wake him, Lieutenant, or do you wish to do it yourself?"

Lieutenant Ford took a deep breath before answering. "I'll do it."

Teyla nodded. "Very well, I shall stay on watch until you are done." She watched as the lieutenant walked towards his pack, rummaging through it to find the required items. He turned to walk over to the major then stopped and looked back at her.

With a small smile, the lieutenant called to her, "Teyla?"

"Yes?"

"Just call me Aiden, okay?"

"Okay," she replied, smiling. "I will do that, Aiden."

The lieutenant, Aiden, then turned and approached the still sleeping leader of their team. She was pleased he had requested to be called by his given name. While she was still not familiar with many Earth customs, she knew that most of the military people on Atlantis referred to each other by rank and surname, rank alone, or surname alone. Requesting that she call him by his first name meant that he considered her a friend.

It surprised Teyla a little that the major did not make the same request. She knew that he also considered her to be a friend. Why then, did he not wish her to call him John? Perhaps, she thought, it was because of his position as the leader of the team. She made a mental note to speak to him about it after they returned.

Keeping her eyes on the woods as she walked the perimeter that Aiden had set up, she listened to the conversation Aiden and the major were having. The major agreed, with little resistance, to eat and take the medication to help fight the infection, but steadfastly refused the morphine. Such a stubborn man! She understood his reluctance, to a point, but what good would he be to them if he collapsed during the day when his help might be needed most?

Teyla had noticed -and thought the major would have too if not for the severity of his injuries- that the creatures seemed to only attack during the light of day. She assumed that, like they did, the creatures slept or rested at night and hunted during the day. After several rounds of arguing and approximately tens minutes, Aiden returned to her.

"He didn't even eat half of his MRE, but hopefully it'll be enough to keep the antibiotics down. He refused to allow me to give him any morphine."

Teyla could see the concern in Aiden's voice reflected in his eyes, and the frustration as well. They were emotions she shared with him. Unfortunately, there was not much they could do.

There was a fierce determination in the young lieutenant's eyes when he spoke again. "I'm going to wait until he's asleep, then I'm going to give him some anyway."

Teyla opened her mouth to voice her concern about that idea, but Aiden put up a hand to stop her.

"I don't like it either, Teyla, and I know the major will be seriously pissed when he finds out, but we really don't have much of a choice." Aiden sighed in resignation then continued, "I'm sure you've observed, as I have, that those Wraith-things only seem to attack when it's light out. I'm fairly certain we're safe for now, but if they attack again during the day, we may need the major's help. If he doesn't get a good night's sleep he won't be any good to us at all by morning and it will only make his situation worse that much faster. I won't give him the full amount, just enough to ease the pain so he can rest easier."

A loud gasp caught their attention and they both turned to see that Major Sheppard, eyes scrunched shut tightly, was grasping his side again.

"Ford's right."

Startled, both Teyla and Aiden turned to see McKay standing behind them, looking at their commander with concern. The scientist had been so silent since they'd last spoken, Teyla had almost forgotten he was there. By the look on his face, she guessed Aiden had as well.

"What?" McKay asked indignantly. "I'm not always completely self-centered you know? I am aware of what's going on and just how badly off the major is."

Teyla smiled. "We know, Rodney."

"The lieutenant," she glanced at the young Earth military officer then amended, "Aiden and I will split the major's shift between us. You should get some rest. Tomorrow will be a rough day."

For a moment, Teyla thought Rodney would protest the decision. Nodding after a moment, he said nothing else as he grabbed his pack, pulled out his sleeping bag, and curled up into it. Within a minute, he was snoring softly.

"You should go to sleep as well."

"I will," Aiden replied. "I just want to give the major some morphine first."

Teyla watched as Aiden dug through his pack. Finding the pre-filled syringe, he made his way over to the major. While he did so, she pulled a bandana out of her pocket and walked over to them. Kneeling beside Sheppard, she poured some of the cool water from her canteen onto the bandana then put it on the major's brow. Hopefully, it would bring him at least some relief.

Aiden knelt beside her and administered the morphine quickly. Teyla held her breath and glanced at Aiden worriedly as the major's eyes opened slowly. He looked at them with unfocused eyes for a few tense seconds. Then his eyes slid closed. She placed a comforting hand on Aiden's forearm and smiled. He smiled back at her then stood. She watched as he readied his own sleeping bag and climbed into it. Within seconds, he too was sound asleep. Turning her attention back to the major, she used the damp bandana to wipe the sweat from his face and neck. It was a small comfort to see that some of the pain had left his face and he seemed to be resting more comfortably.

Teyla was well aware of the trouble Aiden could be in and she would stand beside him if the need be. He had made the correct decision. She was sure, once they got the major back to Atlantis and into Doctor Beckett's capable hands, that Major Sheppard would realize it as well. Wringing the bandana out, Teyla poured more water onto it then placed it back on the major's forehead.

Standing, Teyla stretched then grasped her P-90 and began her patrol of the perimeter. With one last glance at her team leader, she braced herself for what she was sure would be a very long night.

_TBC_


	9. What Lies Within part 9

**What Lies Within part 9  
By Mickey**

E-mail: Status: Completed 4/02/2009

Word Count: 2,685

Spoilers: Minor ones for Rising and The Storm/The Eye

* * *

A loud rustle to his left made John awaken with a start. Sitting straight up, Berretta in hand, he started to scan the area. He spotted McKay just to his left, who gave him a sheepish grin and a half mumbled, "Sorry, I don't really do stealth," before continuing his patrol. Suddenly becoming aware of the shooting pain in his side, John groaned softly and leaned back against the tree.

John glanced at his watch, which read oh-four-forty-five, seriously contemplated going back to sleep, but decided against it. Stifling a yawn, he glanced around their small camp. He was surprised to see Teyla was already awake. From the way she was rubbing her eyes, he guessed she had just woken up. Looking a little more to his left, he saw Ford was also starting to awaken.

Giving them time to get their bearings, John took a few minutes to survey the area as much as his current position would allow. His head was throbbing, his shoulder ached, his abdomen hurt so badly he wanted to cry, and he felt like he was going puke at any time. A hand on his shoulder startled him, causing him to flinch slightly, the small movement elicited more pain.

"Sorry, sir, didn't mean to startle you." John looked up to see Ford kneeling next to him looking concerned. "How do you feel?"

John's first reaction was to lie and say he was fine, or at least feeling better, but he was sure Ford would see right through the ruse. "Not so good." Before Ford could say anything, he conceded, "But there's nothing much we can do about it until we get back to Atlantis." Then, trying to lighten the mood he added, "Beckett is going to have a field day with me this time. Oughta keep him busy for a while." Realizing his half-hearted attempt at a joke fell very flat, he shrugged slightly.

Ford didn't smile. If anything, he looked even more concerned. Sighing, John assured him, "I'm going to be fine, Ford."

The lieutenant looked at him skeptically, but didn't push the issue. "Sir, I think we should split up. Two of us should go to the 'gate for help while one of stays here with you."

"Not gonna happen," John said tersely.

"I believe Lieutenant Ford is correct, Major. Splitting up may be our best option at this time."

John hadn't seen Teyla approach and was startled by the interruption. He really, _really_ wished they'd stop sneaking up on him like that! And, more than that, he hated that he was so weak that they were able to do it so easily. "Not gonna happen," he reiterated more firmly.

"Sir, please, just hear me out."

Sighing and looking not the least bit pleased, John relented. Nodding, he ground out, "Fine."

"We are just about out of medical supplies and your injuries aren't improving. You've developed a fever, which is also getting worse. Teyla took your temperature while you were sleeping, and it's pretty high, one hundred and two point three. If it gets much higher, you may not be able to walk, even with help, which brings me to the fact that every step you take is obviously agony."

John started to protest but Ford help up his hand. "Please don't try to deny it, sir. Give me more credit than that. We can all see how much pain you're in, not that you don't do a bang-up job of trying to hide it. Moving is only aggravating your injuries even more. We aren't much further from the Stargate and two of us alone can move a lot faster than all four of us together. Two of us could get help and be back by lunch. If we all continue on together, it will take twice as long, if not longer."

The conversation was cut short when John, trying to take a deep breath, felt another sharp pain stab through his abdomen. The intensity of the pain had him clutching his side and trying desperately to keep from vomiting. Closing his eyes against it, he tried to will it away. He heard Teyla say something to Ford, but he couldn't concentrate hard enough to make out what she was saying. Gasping, John tried to focus on taking small, slow breaths. He felt a cool, damp cloth on his forehead and realized that Teyla must have pulled her bandana back out. Relieved by the coolness against his hot skin he let his eyes drift closed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

John groaned loudly, unable to hold it back, as he rolled onto his injured side. The intensity of the pain made his stomach clench and he resisted the urge to puke. Puking, he decided, would be a _very_ bad idea at the moment. Empty as his stomach was, all he'd be capable of would be dry heaves, which would just make the pain unimaginably worse. After several minutes, that seemed to stretch on forever, the pain finally eased enough for him to open his eyes. Teyla was crouched beside him, concern deeply etched into her beautiful features.

"Help me . . . sit up."

For a split second, John thought she might refuse. After a moment, she reached out and helped him sit up straight, leaning against the tree again. Gasping in pain,. John feared he had done some serious damage to his abdomen. Moving just shouldn't hurt _that_ much. At a hand on his shoulder, John looked up to see Teyla kneeling on his other side with an open MRE and two more antibiotic pills. How she'd come up with them so quickly was a mystery.

Eating was not something John was looking forward to and his stomach gave a sickening lurch at the smell of the open MRE. Knowing he needed to at least try to eat, if for no other reason than to take the antibiotics to help fight the infection, John accepted the offering. He took a few small bites then swallowed the pills, washing them down with a mouthful of water from his canteen. A few bites later he couldn't eat anymore, so he set his barely touched meal aside.

John looked up to see Teyla staring at his discarded meal. A look of displeasure on her face told him how unhappy she was with his effort. _Tough_, he thought. His stomach was already beginning to protest. With just enough warning for him to avoid puking all over himself, his stomach rebelled violently and there was nothing he could do about it. All he could do was clutch his stomach and try to ride out the pain. What little food he'd consumed, along with the pills, was quickly brought up. It didn't take long for the fluids to come up and within seconds there was nothing but dry heaves. That was the worst part of getting sick, when the stomach tried to expel contents that were no longer there.

When the retching finally stopped, John rolled onto his back and opened his eyes slowly. Teyla and McKay were kneeling next to him looking worried. Ford, John noted with a touch of pride, although he kept glancing over with concern, had continued on with his patrol of their camp. Teyla was wiping a cool, damp bandana across his forehead. McKay, who'd apparently been rubbing his back, had quickly snatched his hand back and now looked as if he was trying to figure out what to do with his hands. His face was an odd mix of nervousness and concern. Knowing how badly it would hurt, John resisted the urge to laugh. Gratefully, he accepted an open canteen from McKay and took several slow, small sips.

"I'm fine," John assured them handing the canteen back to McKay. McKay looked at him skeptically for a moment then silently stood and went back to where he'd been sitting earlier. Teyla wet the bandana again and placed it back on John's forehead. "Really," he assured her. "I'm fine. Go get something to eat."

"I have already eaten," Teyla replied. "I shall relieve Aiden so that he may eat."

John nodded and watched with interest as Teyla walked over and replaced Ford on the perimeter. The lieutenant retrieved an MRE then sat next to McKay and began to eat.

Something had been bugging John since he'd woken up. Now that he was done puking up what little food he'd just eaten, he could try to figure out what it was. How come he could remember everything up to last night, but nothing of his watch? He couldn't remember waking up Teyla either. And why did Ford seem to be avoiding eye contact with him. The lieutenant was acting guilty. Had he done something stupid? Or was he covering for someone else. Realization hit him and he looked up at Teyla with accusing eyes.

"You drugged me."

"I did not," Teyla replied, her voice even.

Ford, who'd obviously overheard John's accusation, walked over and stopped in front of him.

"No, she didn't, sir." Ford took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and said, "I did."

"What?" John bellowed. "I told you no morphine, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir. I know, but-"

John cut Ford off before he could say more. "But nothing! I gave you a direct order and you disobeyed it. Again! Do you realize just how much _shit_ you are in right now?"

To his credit, Ford barely flinched. With a determined look, he replied, "Yes, sir. I do. With respect, sir, I don't care. You were in severe pain. You're no good to us or yourself if you become incapacitated because of the pain or lack of sleep. You have hardly slept at all since this mess started. You're not Superman, sir. You needed to get a decent night's sleep or we'll be carrying you out of here." John was sure Ford knew he was playing the guilt card as he added, "And that would put us _all_ in a lot more danger." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Sir."

John sighed, deflated as his anger left him. Ford was right. He was being stubborn and pigheaded. Yelling at Ford for doing the right thing wouldn't do any of them any good. Angry as he was with Ford's actions, John was willing to admit that it had been the right thing to do.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. Sorry I snapped at you."

Ford nodded, the tension seemingly draining from him, then turned to walk away.

"Ford," John called, stopping the other man. "Don't do it again."

A curt nod was Ford's only reply.

John watched Ford for several minutes. He really was sorry he'd snapped at the lieutenant. The kid's instincts were sound. Making a mental note to speak to him privately when they got home -and it still amazed him just how quickly he'd come to think of Atlantis and the Pegasus Galaxy as home- John turned his attention to watching McKay. He still wasn't acting like himself and that concerned him. After several minutes of watching his wayward scientist, John glanced at his watch -it was oh-six-ten, they should have been on the move ten minutes ago - then called his team to him.

"Change in plans," John began as his team gathered around him. "Teyla can't keep carrying my weight and trying to cover our six. It's getting harder for me to walk," John paused to catch his breath. He hated to admit to being so weak, but protecting and helping his team were more important than his damaged male pride at the moment. Besides, they all knew how badly injured and how sick he was. Trying to hide it would not only be stupid, but could also put his team into even more danger than they were already in. He wouldn't do that to them.

"McKay, I need you to help me so Teyla can concentrate on covering our sixes properly." John held up his hand to stall the arguments he knew were coming. They wanted him to rest, to let two of them go to the 'gate alone and bring back help. That was an option he wasn't willing to consider. It was too risky. While he was sure McKay was correct and the Wraith-creatures were targeting him specifically because of his DNA, that didn't mean they wouldn't attack one of the others if they caught him, or her, alone. It was a gamble he refused to take. "No arguments. We don't have a choice. Splitting up is _not_ an option. Period. Waiting for help isn't either. We're not due to check in for another . . ." he glanced at his watch, "twenty hours. That could be too late. We move out in five minutes, people, so get a move on."

No one said a word as they each went to pack up their gear, John hating that he could do nothing to help them. While what he'd told them was true, he did need Teyla to be able to concentrate on protecting their rear -which she couldn't do dragging his six around- he was also concerned about McKay. The usually chatty and annoyingly argumentative scientist had been unusually quiet and agreeable for the past two days. He decided that, maybe, being responsible for helping him get around might help pull the geek out of his funk. John thought that, perhaps because he was such a lousy shot and _definitely_ not a fighter, McKay might have been feeling a bit useless. After all, they didn't have much use for science when they were doing nothing more than running for their lives. Teyla, Ford, and himself had done all of the shooting, and Teyla and Ford had split up all of John's supplies into their own packs. While McKay did take John's pack, it really didn't weigh much on its own. While John appreciated that small gesture immensely, he was sure McKay wouldn't allow himself to believe it even if John had told him as much.

Plus, while he was still getting to know the other members of his team, he knew McKay well enough to know when the guy was feeling guilty. Right now, McKay was seriously guilt tripping. While he would like to take the time to explain to McKay the thousand reasons why none of this was his fault, they didn't have the time and John knew he didn't have the breath for it. The little bit of talking he'd just done had left him feeling winded.

Within minutes his team was ready to move out, leaving not a trace that they'd been there.

Taking as deep a breath as his battered ribs would allow, John braced himself for the pain he knew was coming. When he looked up again, McKay was standing next to him, his hand extended. John accepted it and grunted as McKay hauled him to his feet with a grunt of his own. With McKay's help, John made it to his feet quickly. Even though he was ready for it, the pain still hit him with breath-taking force and left him gasping for air. Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, John fought the overwhelming desire to scream.

McKay started to walk, but John stopped him. "Wait . . . please. Just . . . a . . . just give . . . me . . . a sec."

McKay remained silent and unmoving as John struggled to breath. It impressed John that McKay waited so patiently. He leaned heavily on McKay for several seconds before finally standing up straight and carefully putting his wounded arm around the other man's neck then un-holstered his weapon with the other. His Berretta in hand, John put as much authority as he could muster into his voice and ordered, "Move out."

John noticed with some satisfaction, that the look of desolation had left McKay's face; in its place was one of determination. He knew McKay had nothing to prove. As far as John was concerned, McKay had proven himself in those first few days on Atlantis, and again more recently when Kolya and his men had attacked Atlantis. All he had to do now was convince the scientist of that.

_TBC_


	10. What Lies Within part 10

**What Lies Within part 10  
By Mickey**

Status: Completed 4/10/2009

Word Count: 2,144

* * *

"You wanna tell me why you've spent the last three days looking like someone just shot your dog?" John asked as he stumbled along beside McKay.

"I don't know what you mean," McKay replied defensively.

"You've been . . ." John tripped over a branch and nearly fell. "Oh, shit," he gasped as a jolt of pain spiked through his side and head. "Sorry."

McKay appeared unconcerned at John's distress, offering him a small nod as they continued on.

"You've been awfully quiet for the last two days or so, Rodney."

McKay threw him a look John couldn't quite decipher. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

John could have sworn he saw a ghost of a smile on McKay's face after his remark. "No. No, not really. Just . . . not like you is . . . is all." John was quiet for a few minutes as he struggled to catch his breath and support as much of his own weight as he could. "Usually have to damn near gag you to shut you up for more than thirty seconds. 'Specially when you . . . come across some . . . scientific . . . stuff."

They walked in silence, apart from John's labored breathing, for several more minutes before John asked, "So, what's eatin' ya?" As he waited for McKay's reply, John concentrated on trying to breathe and walk in a straight line at the same time. The pounding in his head seemed to increase exponentially with each step he took and it was getting harder to concentrate, harder to keep putting one foot in front of the other. As difficult as it was to breathe, he had the sinking feeling he'd done some serious damage to his lungs. Whether he'd broken a rib or two, which had subsequently punctured a lung, or the infection in his side had spread, he couldn't say. Maybe it was a combination of both. All he knew was that breathing was extremely difficult and _painful_.

"Come on, McKay . . . spill," John commanded after several minutes of silence.

Rodney sighed then replied, "I should have known something was wrong. I should have seen this coming. We never should have come here. I knew it was to good to be true that there'd be anything useful there for us to find."

Sheppard had suspected it was something like that. McKay was feeling guilty, blaming himself. While McKay had been the one to push the hardest for this little trip, and had insisted that their team be the one to check it out, Sheppard didn't blame him for anything that had happened since they'd entered the facility.

"Not your fault," he began. "From the infor . . . information we had, it was . . . worth checking out. Nothing you . . . could . . . could have done about . . . them attacking me. Couldn't have . . . stopped it."

"I could have got the lights up faster so we could have seen what was in those tanks, that some were broken, and we could have gotten out of there faster."

Sheppard waved his hand to stall any further protests from Rodney. "Not . . . discussing this any fur . . . further, McKay. You . . . did nothing . . . wrong." He wanted to say more, but an intense pain shot through his abdomen. Gun still clutched tightly, he put the back of his hand to his mouth as he started coughing, which only served to intensify the pain. Doubling over, he tried desperately to will away the pain. As the coughing spell eased, he lowered his hand and cursed. There was a smear of bright red blood on the back of his hand.

"We should stop," McKay said. Then, obviously seeing the blood on John's hand, he muttered a curse.

"No," John insisted, "we keep going. 'Gate's got to be . . . be pretty close . . .now."

There was more to it than just the guilt. Something else was eating at McKay. John knew he would have to discuss the issue with him further once they got home, -would have to practically pound it into his head that it wasn't his fault, but for the time being talking took up way to much energy, made it even more difficult to breathe and just plain hurt too much.

Blinking against the sweat dripping into his eyes and concentrating all of his energy on keeping his knees from buckling, John didn't see the worried look McKay threw Teyla.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sheppard had been quiet for the last fifteen minutes. Any questions Rodney had asked had been answered with one word replies or grunts. Rodney glanced at the major again and his concern deepened. The Sheppard's skin was even paler and the sheen of sweat seemed thicker. His breathing was obviously labored, each breath seemingly more difficult than the last. _How much longer can he last?_ Rodney wondered.

As if to answer the unasked question, Sheppard suddenly doubled over, gasping in pain and obviously struggling to catch his breath.

"Ford! Stop," Rodney called out.

Without looking to see if Ford heard him, Rodney watched helplessly as Sheppard began to retch again. Dry heaves wracked his body. Rubbing Sheppard's back awkwardly, he tried to offer some measure of comfort to the injured and sick man. He prayed it would stop soon. Not just to ease Sheppard's pain, but because he couldn't stand to watch the scene that was playing out before him. Finally, after several minutes that seemed to last forever, the retching eased then stopped, and Sheppard sagged, his back leaning against Rodney.

Rodney looked down as he brushed Sheppard's unruly hair from his eyes. The major's eyes were closed tightly against the pain, his hands still clutching his injured side. His breathing was more labored and he seemed to stop breathing every few seconds for a beat or two. Blood seeped through the major's fingers and Rodney worried what further damage may have been done while they'd walked and when Sheppard had fallen. The dry heaves couldn't be helping any either. Teyla had changed his bandages earlier, before they'd broken camp that morning, but they were obviously completely soaked through again.

A hand on his shoulder made Rodney look up to see Teyla standing next to him, the concern in her eyes mirroring his own.

"He's getting worse," Rodney stated simply. There was no need to elaborate; he could see the understanding in Teyla's eyes. She, better than any of them, knew just how badly off the stubborn major was. It was she, after all, who'd been tending to his wounds from the beginning.

Teyla nodded and helped Rodney gently lay Sheppard on the ground. Rodney shrugged out of his pack and used it to prop the major's head up. Sheppard's eyes opened at that moment and the pain Rodney saw there was unimaginable. How the man was still conscious was beyond him.

Rodney considered moving away as Teyla removed Sheppard's vest then pulled his shirt up over the wound then over his shoulders. She tossed the ruined shirt to the side. Then she began to remove the blood and puss soaked bandages. Rodney blanched and looked away, he really didn't want to see what he knew was an ugly wound. What he really wanted to do was to get up and walk away. Much to his surprise, though, he found he couldn't do it. It felt like he'd be abandoning the man if he did. He knew Sheppard would not move away if their situations were reversed. Instead, he asked, "How can I help?"

Teyla looked at Rodney in surprise then gave him a small, grateful smile. "Hold him. Pulling the bandages away will be painful, as will applying the antiseptic."

Swallowing audibly, Rodney nodded.

Teyla moved quickly, gathering what she needed from their dwindling supplies. Getting everything she could from her pack -she'd already used everything useful from Rodney's- she stood and approached Ford. Rodney watched as the lieutenant stopped his patrol long enough to allow Teyla to remove his medical kit from his pack. She said something Rodney couldn't hear then appeared to rummage through some of the pockets on Ford's vest and pants as well.

Kneeling beside them again, Teyla laid out what she had gathered on the ground. Rodney saw several field dressings and realized that was what she'd been taking from Ford's pockets.

"We are nearly out of gauze and bandages from the medical kits. There should be enough to redress the abdominal wounds, but I will need to use the field dressings to bind his shoulder wounds." Taking a deep breath, she seemed to be preparing herself for what was to come next then spoke again. "I will need you to hold him tightly as I clean the wounds then re-dress them. Once done with the wounds to his side, I will remove the bandages from his shoulder and do the same."

Rodney nodded and inhaled deeply, releasing the breath slowly. He adjusted his grip on Sheppard slightly before replying, "I'm ready." He knew this would not be pleasant for any of them, but it had to be done. He slid the major slowly, carefully back onto his lap, cradling his head in one arm and wrapping the other arm around his chest. Looking up, Rodney saw Ford walking a tight perimeter around them, occasionally throwing a concerned glance their way. Their eyes locked briefly and McKay hoped he was conveying more confidence and courage than he felt.

Sheppard's eyes flew open and he arched his back against Rodney's grip as Teyla poured the antiseptic into the major's wounds. The ear piercing scream that ripped from the man's throat made Rodney flinch involuntarily. He couldn't even begin to imagine the pain Sheppard was experiencing. He considered putting his hand over Sheppard's mouth to muffle the scream. If those creatures were close, and Rodney prayed they weren't, the man's anguished cries would be sure to attract their attention. As he considered that option, Sheppard stopped screaming. Glazed eyes met his and he was sure Sheppard was lucid enough to realize his screams could attract the creatures. He seemed to be struggling to hold them back. As Teyla pressed a clean piece of gauze onto one of the cuts, Sheppard's jaw clenched tightly, his eyes slammed shut, and he bit back another scream.

Wincing in sympathy, Rodney tightened his grip on Sheppard's chest as the wounded man bucked against him again. For what seemed to be the millionth time in the past few days, he wished he'd never found the information on the outpost, that they'd never set foot on this god-forsaken planet. He knew it wasn't really his fault Sheppard had been injured so badly, after all this is what they did and they all knew the risks, but he couldn't help feeling guilty despite Sheppard's earlier instance that it was beyond his control. Sheppard's eyes slid shut again and Rodney wondered if he'd passed out from the pain.

A few minutes later, Teyla finished wrapping Sheppard's abdomen and had moved onto removing the bandages from his shoulder. It too had started bleeding again at some point, but seemed to have stopped again. As far as Rodney could see, it wasn't infected. For that small miracle, Rodney was grateful. Sheppard grunted, his eyes remaining tightly closed, as Teyla poured the antiseptic into the wounds. Using the field dressings she'd taken from Ford, she then dressed the wounds quickly.

By the time Teyla finished, Sheppard seemed to be unconscious, his chest rising and falling with each short, ragged breath. Rodney sat quietly as he watched the major sleep. After several minutes he was reasonably certain moving wouldn't wake Sheppard so he gently eased him to the ground, again using his pack as a pillow.

As he stood, Rodney noticed that Teyla had finished cleaning up the mess and was pulling a pre-filled syringe from one of the med-kits. "Morphine?" he asked.

Teyla nodded. "He seems to be unconscious for now, but he is still in great pain. I do not think it would be wise to move him any further until a travois can be built. He should not attempt to walk anymore."

"Yeah," Rodney agreed and watched in silence as Teyla administered the morphine. She then took out her bandana, wet it with water from her canteen then used it to wipe the sweat from Sheppard's brow. That done she took a strip thermometer from the med-kit and applied it to his forehead. After a minute, she removed it and shook her head.

"Well?" Rodney demanded.

Frowning, Teyla replied, "It is as I feared. His temperature has risen nearly a full degree. If we do not get him back to Atlantis soon. . . ."

Rodney didn't need her to complete the sentence to catch her drift. If they didn't get Sheppard back to Atlantis real soon, he'd die.

"I guess we'd better get a move on then."

Rodney jumped at the sound of Ford's voice behind him. _What_ was it with military people and sneaking up on other people?

_TBC_


	11. What Lies Within part 11

**Part 11  
By Mickey**

Status: Completed 5/14/2009

Word Count: 1,411

Author's Notes: Again, sorry it has been so long between this chapter and the last, but I've been working on a few other projects. I'll try to post more often, but I just started a new job, which is taking up more of my time, and I still work part time at my other job, so no guarantees. Many thanks to those of you who have been sticking with this and those sending feedback!!!

* * *

Ford allowed himself a small smile as McKay jumped at his words. "Jumpy, aren't we?"

"Gee, I wonder why," McKay snarled.

Putting on his best innocent look, Ford simply smiled as the team got to work. Teyla stayed with their injured CO, while he and McKay gathered the supplies they'd need. He was very glad the major had insisted they all learn how to build a travois. Actually, he'd insisted all members of _all_ offworld teams learn. While Doctor McKay had not been pleased about the additional work the lessons had made for his team, he'd agreed they were necessary.

Fifteen minutes later, Ford and McKay had gathered enough wood and other materials. Teyla came over to help the two men put everything together. Using a combination of rope from his pack and some of the strong local vines, they strapped the branches together. Working wordlessly, they finished in less than half-an-hour. He was sure it would hold the major's weight. Once the major was home and feeling better, Ford was sure he'd be proud of the way the team had pulled together.

"All right, let's move the major."

"We must be extremely cautious," Teyla warned. "I believe he may have broken one or more of his ribs."

Nodding, Ford helped her move the travois closer to the sleeping major. He then turned his attention to McKay. "When Teyla and I roll the major, you'll need to slide the travois under him as quickly as possible and make sure it's lined up with his body."

Ford waited for one of the usual snippy remarks the scientist was famous for and was surprised when McKay simply gave a brisk nod. He and Teyla got into position and were about to roll the major onto his uninjured side when McKay called out.

"Wait." McKay then sifted around in his pack for a few seconds before pulling out a bunched up shirt. "I know it isn't much," he offered, "but this thing is going to be uncomfortable enough for him. This should help to pillow his head at least a little bit."

McKay placed the makeshift pillow on the travois and got himself into position. When he nodded to indicate he was ready, Ford nodded to Teyla. He counted to three and they quickly rolled the major onto his right side. He watched as McKay slide the travois under the major then he and Teyla rolled him onto his back. The major groaned softly as they rolled him, but his eyes remained shut.

"All right, people, this is how it's going to go. McKay and I will carry the major while you take point," he began, pointing to Teyla. "After about an hour, we'll switch off. We'll keep switching every hour until we make it to the 'gate. If the person staying with the travois needs it, we'll take a _short_ break at the exchange." Turning to McKay, he said, "You take the front, I'll take the rear."

Without protest, McKay moved to the end with the major's feet. Ford moved to the end by his head as Teyla took up her position. "Lift on three," Ford ordered. "One . . . two . . . three." Together the two men lifted, grunting softly under the major's weight. "Adjusting his grip to make sure he wouldn't drop the injured man, Ford asked McKay, "You okay?"

"Fine," McKay replied. With a muttered grumble, he added, "You need to lay off the chocolate cake, Major."

Despite his hushed tone, Ford overheard McKay's comment. Smiling, he called to Teyla, "Ready, Teyla?"

"I am," she responded and started walking, her P-90 at the ready.

The going was painfully slow, as Ford had expected it to be. Silently, he agreed with McKay that, maybe the major needed to lay off the cake. Just a little. As they walked, he constantly scanned the area looking for any signs of trouble. He also concentrated on listening to the woods around them. He was certain there were more of those mutant Wraiths around and didn't want to take the chance on being ambushed again. Sending a silent prayer to whatever god might be listening that the remaining creatures would stay far away from them, he walked in silence.

Nearly an hour, and by Ford's estimation, less than a mile later, they'd been forced to take their first break when McKay's grip began to slip.

"My arms are going numb," McKay complained. Ford was actually sort of relieved to hear just a touch of the man's usual whiny tone slipping back into his voice.

"Okay, let's set him down gently."

McKay sent him a "no duh" look but said nothing as they lowered the travois to the ground. The major stirred a little, a low moan escaping his lips, but his eyes remained closed.

"We should change positions," Teyla stated as she approached Ford.

Ford turned his attention to Teyla as she spoke. He thought about saying no, but as he glanced at McKay, he could plainly see by the way he was rubbing his shoulders that the guy could use a break. The guy was a scientist, not a soldier, and he'd never hidden the fact that regular exercise was nowhere on his daily 'To Do List'. Nodding in agreement, Ford said, "Okay. We'll take a ten minute break so we can check on the major, then you and McKay can switch positions."

Ford wasn't thrilled with the idea of McKay being on point, but they didn't have a lot of options at this point. He knew they'd need to switch around again at least once more before they reached the 'gate, and he wanted to be the one on point when they did. He wasn't sure why, but he had a bad feeling the creatures would be there. While they did exhibit some intelligence in how they attacked, he doubted any of them would remember what the 'gate was or how it worked. Still, his gut told them some of them would be there.

Teyla's voice interrupted his thoughts as she said, "Rest. I will check on the major."

Saying nothing, Ford nodded in agreement. He was more tired and sore than he was willing to admit. After watching Teyla until she reached the major, he turned his attention to McKay to inform him to stand guard and was surprised to see that McKay was already walking a perimeter. Maybe the stubborn scientist was learning a thing or two about field operations after all.

It was about time.

Finding a thick tree trunk, Ford sat on the ground and leaned against it. He kept an eye on McKay. While he was putting in the effort, it was still painfully obvious that McKay was not military and didn't have much experience. Teyla, while also not military, was a warrior in her own right and was eager to learn.

Unlike McKay.

He turned his attention to Teyla and watched as she checked the major's temperature. Her frown was not a good sign. She looked at him and he could tell from her expression that he was getting worse. He turned his attention back to McKay as she took her bandana out and wiped his brow with it. McKay, he noticed, had been watching her as well. He locked eyes with the other man for a moment before McKay looked away and continued his patrol.

"His temperature has risen again," Teyla informed Ford as she knelt beside him.

"I kinda figured that," he replied. Watching the major, even from this distance, he could tell the wounded man was still in a lot of pain. Tempting as it was to tell Teyla to give Sheppard more morphine, he knew it was too soon. Instead, he said, "Let's get moving."

Standing, Ford called out, "McKay, time to move out. Take point."

McKay nodded and moved into position as Ford and Teyla each grabbed an end of the travois. "On three," Ford said and then started counting. When he got to three, he and Teyla lifted together, both grunting softly under the major's weight. They paused as the major groaned and his eyes fluttered open. Glazed, unfocused eyes met Ford's as Sheppard muttered something. The only words Ford could make out were "'gate" and "creature".

"Shhh, we're okay, sir. We're almost home. Just rest, we'll get you there."

The major said nothing. A few moments later, his eyes slid shut once again. Nodding to Teyla and McKay, Ford told them, "Move out."

_TBC_


	12. What Lies Within part 12

**Part 12  
By Mickey**

Status: Completed 7/19/2009

Word Count: 1,474

Author's Notes: At the end.

* * *

"Shit, shit, _shit_," Ford muttered as they approached the 'gate. The major, who had been sleeping somewhat peacefully after their last stop, had become more and more agitated as they neared the Stargate. Now, only several hundred yards away, he finally understood what Sheppard had been muttering about during their last stop and his increased unease.

The Wraith-creatures were already there.

Sighing, Ford motioned to Teyla to join him. They had set the travois down several feet behind Ford's current position using nearby bushes for cover. Turning to McKay, she cocked her head in Fords direction an indication of her intent to join him and keeping low, made her way over.

As soon as she arrived beside him, Ford opened his mouth to tell her what he saw then snapped it shut again. The look of concern on her face told him she had seen the creatures as well. There were only four at the 'gate, but he had a bad feeling there were more nearby. The good thing was, they didn't appear to know how to work the 'gate.

Teyla seemed to read Ford's mind. Just as one of the creatures snarled and slammed a hand against the DHD, she turned to him and remarked, "It appears these creatures have retained some knowledge about the Stargate, but do not seem to remember how it works."

"Yeah, that's what I figured," Ford remarked. "The question is, are they gathered there because they know we are heading this way, or for another reason?"

"At this point, I do not believe it matters."

Hesitating for a moment, Ford replied, "Yeah, you're right. The real question is, how do we draw them away from the 'gate long enough for us to escape. The major is in no condition for a direct assault and McKay's aim isn't the greatest. Someone would have to stay with the major to make sure none of those creatures attack him while we're distracted. We have to come up with a diversion and pray that, if there are any more of those creatures around, they're far enough away so that we can escape before they arrive."

"Agreed," Teyla said with a nod. "We must act quickly, though. The major's condition is deteriorating rapidly. His temperature has risen again since our last break. It is getting dangerously high. I do not know how much longer he can hold on."

Nodding, his face grim, Ford said nothing. The whole situation just sucked really badly. The urgent need to get Sheppard home weighed heavily on his mind. Rushing in without a plan would be foolish and could lead to more of his team being injured or worse, killed. It simply wasn't worth the risk.

Finally breaking the silence, Ford said, "We need a plan. Let's get back to McKay and the major." Without waiting for a reply from Teyla, he made his way back to their teammates.

As he knelt down beside his CO, Ford was surprised to see how relatively focused Sheppard's eyes were. The pinched look on his face told Ford he was still in extreme pain, but was more alert than he had been for several hours. "They're here," he stated simply.

"Yes," Ford answered. The major opened his mouth to speak, but Ford spoke first, "There are four of them at the 'gate. They don't seem to remember how to work the DHD."

Sheppard nodded, grimacing. His eyes closed and Ford was afraid he was unconscious, or worse, but the slow rise and fall of the wounded man's chest assured him he was falling back asleep, even though he'd prefer he stay awake. At least until they could get him through the 'gate and into Doctor Beckett's capable hands. Finally, Sheppard's eyes fluttered open. It was obvious that keeping his eyes open was a huge effort for him.

For a few more seconds, Sheppard remained silent. "Mm . . . more . . . nnnearrr . . . nearby," he gasped.

"Can you tell how close they are, how many?" Teyla asked.

Ford felt Teyla's hand settle on his shoulder as she spoke. He glanced up and saw his worried expression mirrored in her face.

The major's eyes slid closed again as he grimaced in obvious pain. Ford waited anxiously for him to respond. Finally, he shook his head and, in barely more than a whisper, replied, "No." After another pause, his eyes opened again. Ford could see that the glazed look was returning. "Clo . . . close. That's all I . . . I . . . gahhhh," he groaned against the pain then continued, "I . . . can ssss . . . say."

Ford started to stand when the major reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Gun."

"We'll take care of them, sir, you need to rest," Ford said firmly.

Sheppard pinned him with a hard glare and tightened his grip. His strength amazed Ford. "Give me . . . m . . . m . . . my . . . my gun, now, _Lieutenant_."

Picking up the emphasis on his rank, and realizing his injured commander was not going to give in and let his team handle the situation without him, Ford conceded. _Besides,_ he rationalized, _even half out of his mind with pain, the major is still the best shot in Atlantis and if worst comes to worst, he shouldn't be unarmed._ He nodded and unholstered the major's gun, chambered a round, and then handed it over. Sheppard released his grip and accepted the 9mm.

McKay, who'd stood to keep watch while Ford and Teyla spoke to the major, turned his attention back to his teammates. Ford waved him over.

"I think our best bet is to take them by surprise, eliminate the creatures at the 'gate then make a break for it. We'll just have to take our chances and pray the others are far enough away that we can get through before they arrive." Pausing for a moment, Ford took a deep breath before continuing. "We'll move the major to the bushes closer to the 'gate. Teyla, you and I will use the bushes for cover and take out the creatures. McKay, you'll stay down and face those woods," he pointed slightly towards the left, "in case any more of those things show up and try to attack from the rear." Knowing how important it was for the major to feel involved, Ford turned towards Sheppard to gauge his reaction.

"Sounds . . . like . . . plan," came the whispered response.

Sheppard's eyes were half closed, but he still seemed alert enough to fire with accuracy if need be. Ford was still uncomfortable with the plan, but they didn't have any other viable options. Looking to Teyla, he saw the quiet acceptance and worry in her eyes. She didn't like it anymore than he did, but also didn't have a better idea.

Difficult as it was to walk with the travois while standing upright, it was much harder when crouched down. Somehow, they made it to the bushes closest to the 'gate without being detected.

Standing and turning towards the 'gate, he waited for Teyla to do the same then motioned for her to take the two on the left, while he would take the two on the right. Just at that moment, their luck ran out. Ford could only guess that one of the creatures had sensed the major's presence as it growled loudly and started running towards their meager cover. Ford reacted swiftly and felled the charging creature then took out his other target. He was relieved to see that Teyla had taken out her own targets just as quickly.

They now had a clear path to the Stargate. For how long remained to be seen.

Ford took up position in front of his teammates as Teyla and McKay each shouldered their P90's and grabbed an end of the travois. Running as fast as they could, the team made their way towards the 'gate. Ford reached the DHD quickly and dialed Atlantis. As soon the 'gate whooshed open, he sent the IDC and, thumbing his radio, yelled out, "Atlantis, we're coming in hot. We need a medical team in the gateroom _stat_." He'd just finished sending the second code when his teammates rushed past him. Running as fast as he could backwards, he covered their six as they made a beeline towards their only method of escape.

Ford began firing as he saw several creatures approaching. He dropped them quickly, but several more appeared, seemingly from nowhere. He was aware of several more coming from his right, but knew he wouldn't be able to get them before they reached his friends.

In an amazing display of skill, the wounded major aimed and fired, taking down the three rapidly approaching creatures with as many shots. Ford watched in awe as the creatures fell then he turned forward again in time to see Sheppard finally collapse then disappear through the open wormhole. Within seconds, he entered as well leaving the nightmare behind him.

TBC

Notes: Oiy! I know it's been almost two months since I update this, and I apologize for that. I don't like to break of the flow of the fic, especially for those who are reading several chapters in a row, which is why these notes are at the end. I want to say thanks _soooo_ much to all of you have stuck with me through the long process of writing and posting this fic, and a HUGE thanks to those who have sent me feedback, it is greatly appreciated. You are _all_ awesome! There are, most likely, only two chapters left, so this journey is nearly at an end. The next chapter is with my beta's as I type this and should be up within the next week or so.


	13. What Lies Within part 13

**Part 13  
By Mickey**

Status: Completed 7/29/2009

Word Count: 2,876

* * *

Teyla staggered under the sudden momentum of exiting the Stargate. Rodney came through at the same rate a second later, nearly causing her to drop the travois. Together, they gently lowered the travois and stepped to the side as the nurses came rushing into the 'gate room led by a very anxious looking Doctor Beckett. Teyla glanced nervously at Rodney and gave him a small smile. Despite the dangers they'd faced, they had worked together as a team and made it back to Atlantis safely.

Worriedly, she looked back at the 'gate as the doctor knelt beside Major Sheppard and began to assess his condition. Why had Aidan not yet joined them? No sooner had the thought crossed her mind then he came stumbling backwards into the 'gate room. Breathing a sigh of relief, she turned her attention back to the major as the lieutenant came to stand beside her and Rodney.

"What happened?"

Teyla looked up to see Doctor Weir approaching, concern etched in her features. She waited aptiently as Aidan began to speak. As the major's second in command, he would be expected to fill in for their injured commander.

"It's kind of a long story, ma'am," he began, his eyes never leaving Sheppard's prone form. "We found the ancient facility. It wasn't unoccupied." Aidan paused, seemingly to get his emotions under control.

Listening to the lieutenant, Teyla didn't need to look at him to know that his eyes had narrowed. His voice tightened as he continued his explanation.

"Apparently, the Ancients decided to play around with Wraith DNA. They were doing some kind of experiments on the Wraith they'd captured and mixed the test subjects DNA with that of an animal similar to a wild dog." Teyla heard Aidan pause for a moment and looking up, gave him a small encouraging smile before turning her attention back to Doctor Beckett and the major. "That's not all. Doctor McKay says one of the scientists also combined his own DNA with the creatures. He believes that that is how the creatures seemed to be able to track us and why they targeted the major during everyone of their attacks."

Looking up, Teyla saw her own earlier shock and disbelief at hearing that news etched on Elizabeth's face. The other woman remained silent for a moment, watching along with the rest of them as various tubes and wires were connected to the major. Within moments the medical team had him carefully transferred to a gurney and briskly whisked away. She watched for a moment, then looked at Elizabeth and Aidan.

"I know you're all anxious to be with John," Elizabeth paused as Carson led the medical team from the 'gate room, "but judging by what I saw of him, it's going to be a while before Carson will have any news for us. In the mean time, you all look exhausted. I want you all to report to the infirmary for your post mission physicals, then you are _all_ to get cleaned up, and get something to eat." Holding up a hand to fend off their impending protests, Elizabeth continued, "No arguments. I know you'll probably not sleep until you know how John is, so I won't order you all to bed. Yet. I do, however, expect you to write your reports while you wait for news."

Nodding, Teyla handed over her weapons to the waiting SFs before heading to the infirmary with her team.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Sighing heavily, Elizabeth watched the remaining members of her front line team walk dejectedly towards the infirmary. *Damn! Why do they _never_ seem to catch a break?* In the eight months since they had arrived in the Pegasus Galaxy, Major Sheppard's team had received at least twice as many injuries as any two other teams _combined_. Of course, being the front line team, they drew the bulk of the most difficult missions. Bad luck also just seemed to follow them around. Even some of what should have been simple, routine missions -such as this one- had gone seriously wrong. The colonel, it seemed, almost always caught the brunt of the trouble.

In their second trip through the Atlantis 'gate, a rescue mission to save their people and the captured Athosians, John had been hit by a Wraith stunner. Since then, he had had a bug attached to his neck that nearly killed him, he'd been stunned at least four or five more times, and he'd been beaten a few times. He'd also dealt with several situations -like the siege on Atlantis by Kolya and his men- where John had been constantly on the move and in danger for hours, or even a day without so much as having a chance to get something to eat. By the time they'd finished dealing with that particular situation, and its aftermath, John had gone over two days without sleep, which had left him both physically and mentally drained. Just recently, he'd been shot by a Wraith with the spare gun from his jumper. He'd also been beaten several times, enough to badly bruise ribs twice and cause a concussion once. On their fifth mission, he'd been cut by one of the locals. Luckily, it had been a small knife and the wound only required a few stitches and a few days to heal.

John wasn't the only one on his team to be injured on a mission. Ford had sprained his ankle a few weeks after they'd arrived in the Pegasus galaxy and had suffered a severe concussion during a nasty spill to a steep hillside nearly three months ago. Teyla and Rodney had also suffered a few injuries, including the cut Kolya had inflicted to Rodney's arm. Each of them had also suffered more than one blast from a Wraith stunner. Each time one of his team members had been sick or injured, John had spent all of his free time -sometimes getting little or no sleep- in the infirmary until he or she had recovered.

All in all, it had been a very rough eight months for the major physically and emotionally.

The same could be said for most members of the expedition, really, but being not only the leader of the front line -and therefore the most active- team, just made it that much harder on John.

Sighing, Elizabeth turned back towards her office. She desperately wanted to go to the infirmary to check on John, but she knew it simply wasn't an option right then. Supplies were really starting to dwindle. The siege on Atlantis hadn't helped matters. The negotiations with the Allemiean's, a somewhat primitive culture with well-developed agricultural practices whom John and his team had met a few weeks ago, were at a standstill. On top of all that, the lack of supplies was beginning to cause some infighting amongst some of the scientists. The military personnel, too well trained to let a lack of certain conveniences interfere with doing their jobs, seemed to be taking everything in stride and were dealing with the inconveniences fairly well.

For now.

Elizabeth had to wonder though, how much longer that would last. After all, despite all of their training, the military members of the expedition were only human. Add the stress of their normal duties to the stress of dealing with the shortages and the fact that they had to constantly be taken from their normal duties to break up mostly petty arguments between the scientists, she knew they'd reach a breaking point sooner or later. She just prayed it wouldn't be until later. Much, much later. Like, oh, say, _after_ they were able to find a fully functional ZPM and re-establish contact with Earth -or at least until they could establish steady trade negotiations with some of the Pegasus Galaxy locals.

Entering her office, Elizabeth let the door close on its own as she walked to her chair and slumped down into it. She was trying desperately to wrap her mind around what Ford had told her. The Ancients had been messing with genetics -_Wraith_ genetics!- and one or more of them had actually thrown their own DNA into the mix. The Ancients had, from what little she'd heard, and judging by the state John was in, created an extremely efficient killing machine. One which could detect an Ancient or someone who naturally carried the ATA gene. Just the thought of it was unbelievable, not to mention appalling.

For nearly an hour, Elizabeth tried to concentrate on her paperwork. After the third attempt at reading Lieutenant Fielding's report on the negotiations with the Allemiean's, and her third time getting to the end and still not having a clue of what she'd just read, she gave up and left her office. She knew she would not be able to properly concentrate on anything else until she knew whether John would make it or not. It bugged her, in a way, that this had her so thoroughly distracted. Others, including John, had been injured before and she'd been able to do her duty without much hesitation. Then again, no one had come through the 'gate so badly injured before.

No one who had for lived long afterwards, anyway.

As she walked briskly towards the infirmary, Elizabeth prayed John would not become the expedition's next fatality. While every member of the expedition was important, John was one of the very few members who was truly invaluable. Not just because he was the strongest natural gene carrier in the city -possibly in _two galaxies_-, but also because of his military status. Compared to most military commanders, the major's approach was pretty lax but that, combined with his willingness to sacrifice himself for even a "lowly" corporal or member of the kitchen staff, had won him great respect from every person in the city. Even the most reclusive and cranky of the scientists. Of course, his willingness to be an on call human guinea pig had gone a long way towards achieving that, especially with the scientists. If he d . . . died, she feared things would take a serious turn for the worse very quickly. While she had great confidence in the military officers in the city, she knew none of them could lead the military contingent as efficiently as John did, or gain the level of respect from the city's inhabitants as the major had.

Granted, John had brought some of his extra duties upon himself. It was he who decided that _every_ person in Atlantis had to learn at least basic first aid, weapon safety, basic hand to hand combat and proper handling and firing of a nine millimeter gun. Qualifications on the handgun were higher for anyone who went off world with one of the recon or science teams. Those individuals were also required to at least learn how to safely handle and fire a P-90. Grudgingly, and with _much_ complaining at first, every member of the expedition, herself included, had done as they were told. Still, she had to admit it was a good idea.

*John, you are one of the most stubborn, tenacious people I have ever met. Please, don't leave us.*

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Carson's relief that Major Sheppard had pulled through the surgery fairly well was short lived. While the wound to his right shoulder was serious and his arm would need to be in a sling for a little while, it was not nearly as bad as it looked and, unlike the wound in his side, had not become infected. It had taken less than an hour to clean and stitch the wound. In a few weeks, it would be as good as new. The abdominal wound was another story entirely. It had become seriously infected and some of the tissue, thankfully only a very small amount, had died and was unsalvageable, needing to be removed. As if that wasn't bad enough, the infection had spread to the major's lung. Much as he despised it, he'd been forced to insert a chest tube to drain the fluids that had built-up in the infected lung. It would likely have to remain for several days.

Luckily, the damage to the major's face was also relatively minor. The skin had split just above the left eye, requiring several butterfly stitches to close, but Carson was sure there would be no scar left behind. The bruising was fairly severe, as was the swelling around his left eye, but both would abate with time.

The things causing the most concern for Carson now were the infection and the wounded man's extremely high fever. If he couldn't get those two things under control within the next twenty-four hours, the major's chances for recovery would be slim to none.

The surgery done and the major almost situated, Carson left his very capable nurses to finish getting Sheppard settled, allowing him to fill in the major's team on his condition. Said team members, along with Doctor Weir, were waiting with varying degrees of impatience for his report.

Clearing his throat to catch everyone's attention, Carson chuckled as Rodney jumped and nearly dropped his laptop. Ignoring his friend's annoyed glare, he began his report. "The major is out of surgery. It went well, but he is not out of the woods yet. Let's see," Carson paused as he looked at the major's chart. "He's got a concussion, three fractured ribs, a punctured lung, some minor abrasions and quite a bit of deep bruising to his face and abdominal area. In addition, when the creature clawed his side, one of its claws broke off and was embedded in the wound."

Teyla gasped in shock. "I am sorry. I do not know how I could have missed that."

"Calm down, lass," Carson replied soothingly, placing his hands on her shoulders in a reassuring gesture. "It's not your fault. It was embedded pretty deep in the second cut from the top, which was the deepest cut of the four. There's no way you could have known it was there.

"As a result of the infection and the blood loss, he's gone into shock." Seeing the look of self-recrimination on Teyla's face, Becket stopped and pinned her with a serious look. "You can stop that train of thought right there, lass. This isn't your fault either." Pausing just long enough to be sure that what he'd said to Teyla had sunk in, he lowered his hands as he returned her nod. He was glad to see a, albeit _very small_, smile play on her lips. Turning his attention back to Elizabeth, Carson continued, "I also had to insert a chest tube to drain the excess fluid from his lung.

"Luckily, the concussion is minor and there are no signs of a skull fracture. His shoulder is in much better shape than it looks. There is no infection there, although it took a fair few stitches to sew up the wound, but it should heal relatively quickly. Certainly faster than the abdominal wound at least. At this time, my main concerns are the infection and his fever. The longer his fever remains elevated, the more danger he is in."

Carson could clearly see the concern etched in their faces and knew his features reflected the same. Taking a deep breath, he began again. "He's still heavily sedated from the surgery, but you may visit him for a few minutes. Then I want you all to go to your rooms and get some sleep." Three mouths opened to protest. Holding up a hand to forestall the impending arguments, Carson continued, "I don't want to hear any arguments from any of you. I haven't had the opportunity to check your medical exams as of yet, but I don't need to review them to see that you are all exhausted. You will all get at least six hours of rest before you return." He pinned each of them with a glare as he spoke then turned back to Doctor Weir. "And that includes you as well," he added. Glancing at his watch, he said, "You have ten minutes then it's off to bed with the lot of you."

Leaving no room for argument, Carson turned and left, heading for his office. He had every confidence in his team, but he always liked to review the exams anyway. He was not under any delusion that Sheppard's team would listen to him without strict enforcement, but he wasn't concerned. Elizabeth would enforce his rules. Although she wasn't likely to follow them herself immediately, he wasn't concerned about her just yet. She was one of the few people he knew who understood her own limitations very well and would not push beyond them except in the most dire of situations.

Sure that his patient was well cared for and that the major's team would follow his orders -even if they did so under duress- Carson concentrated on his paperwork. After reviewing Rodney's, Ford's, and Teyla's exam results, he had other reports to file. Knowing he needed to check on the major in a few hours, he wanted to make sure all of his paperwork would be done by then. Taking a long drink form the bottle of water he kept on his desk, he got to work.

_TBC_


	14. What Lies Within part 14

**What Lies Within part 14 **  
**By Mickey**

Status: Completed 2/4/2010

Word Count: 2,816

Author's Notes: At the End

* * *

A week and a half after returning from the planet John had christened, "The-Ancients-screwed-up-and-left-the-mess-for-someone-else-AGAIN" he still felt like he'd just finished a month long forced march. The chest tube had been removed several days ago though, and thankfully, he was breathing much easier. He'd been unconscious by the time Beckett had inserted the chest tube, a fact he was grateful for after hearing how painful they were to have put in. He'd started coming around a day or so after their return, but Beckett had had him drugged to the gills at that point, so John had only vague recollections of anything for the first three or four days. As he'd become more aware and his wounds had started to heal, the doc had slowly started to cut back on his meds.

His shoulder and abdomen itched like hell, which Beckett assured him meant the wounds were healing well. The stitches were all removed the previous night, but the wounds were still pink and tender. Beckett had threatened dire consequences if he scratched and "did anymore damage to himself". As if he'd wanted the damn freaky ass creatures to attack him in the first place! He sure as hell hadn't stuck the damn claw in his side.

For the first time since their return, John was completely alone. Between himself and Beckett, they'd finally managed to convince his team that he didn't need around the clock supervision nearly an hour ago and had shooed everyone off. They all looked tired, and he seriously doubted any of them had slept for more than a few hours a day since they'd returned home. Of course, this was the first time that he'd been able to stay awake for more than thirty minutes, which had made it easier to convince the others to leave him unattended.

. . . Or at least as unattended as one could get in the infirmary.

As much as he did enjoy their company -even Rodney with his incessant rambling- John was glad to have a few moments of peace and quiet. He'd started out trying to think up ways to sneak out of the infirmary, but gave up after a few minutes when he'd pushed himself up into a more comfortable position, and realized just how much that simple action had taken out of him. There was no way he'd get more than a foot or two from the bed without falling flat on his face . . . or his ass. Not a snowball's chance in hell was he willing to take that risk. Not yet anyway. He'd never live it down. After that realization, his thoughts had turned to the mission that had landed him in the infirmary.

Once again, a simple mission had quickly gone all to hell. Unfortunately, this was not only _not_ the first time a mission had gone south for his team, it also wasn't the first time a screwed up mission had landed him in Doctor Beckett's clutches. Although, he usually only required some antiseptic and a couple Tylenol, or a few stitches, and no more than an overnight stay. According to Beckett, he wouldn't be released for two more days at least, possibly longer. After that, he had at least two weeks of light duty to look forward to before the good doctor would even consider allowing him to go back on full duty, never mind going back through the 'gate again.

John still had trouble getting his head around the fact that the Ancients, supposed super geniuses and nearly god-like people, had actually created the creatures. And had done it on purpose no less! The more he learned about Atlantis' creators, the less he liked them. As a race, they were extremely careless, arrogant, and egotistical, leaving behind a trail of failed experiments and innocent people who had to suffer the consequences for their actions.

Focusing on what actually happened and forgetting the Ancients for the moment, John thought about his actions from the beginning to the end of the mission. What he could remember of them, anyway. They would definitely have to be more careful from here on out. He blamed no one on his team but himself for the outcome of the mission and his injuries. He should have been more cautious going in, should have had everyone get out the portable floodlights when McKay couldn't get the lights on fully. If he had, then he would have seen the empty, _broken_, holding tanks. They might have seen the creatures sooner, and he wouldn't have put himself and his team in unnecessary danger. Actually, he should have had them all hightail it out of there the moment he'd stepped into that room and the hairs on the back of his neck had stood on end.

Then again, hindsight always was twenty-twenty. For the moment at least, he let it go and moved on to what had happened after they'd escaped the facility.

Still lost in thought nearly twenty minutes later, John suddenly felt like he was being watched and jerked his head up towards the door to see a lone figure obscured in shadows. "How long have you been standing there, Elizabeth?"

"How did. . .?" she started to ask, then smiled and said, "Never mid. How are you feeling?"

"Better. Not getting tired so quickly anymore."

"That's good. I'm glad to hear it," Elizabeth replied as she approached his bed. She seemed to ponder something, considering her phrasing, then said, "I've read your team's reports, but I want to hear it from you if you feel up to it now. What the hell happened in there, John? Were the Ancients really doing genetic experiments on the Wraith? Mixing their own DNA with the Wraith?"

John remained silent for several moments. He did feel up to talking, he just wasn't sure what to say, how to explain what they saw in that room and what happened on the way back to the 'gate. Taking as deep a breath as his still healing chest would allow, he began. Nearly an hour later, he was exhausted, physically and emotionally drained, but had told Elizabeth everything, or at least everything he could remember. "Something told me to just get the hell out of there as soon as I stepped foot into that room. I should have listened to my gut."

Elizabeth held up a hand. "You can just stop that train of thought right there, John. This wasn't your fault, nor was it McKay's. None of it was. You had no way of knowing what was in there. According to Ford, Teyla, and McKay, you did everything right. You reacted quickly when you detected the threat, saved everyone's life, and got your team out of there safely with no one but yourself getting seriously injured. I honestly believe that if it had been anyone else but you there, the outcome would have been far worse."

Not knowing how to respond to her obvious praise, John said nothing.

Apparently taking advantage of John's silence, Elizabeth added, "When you're feeling better, you and I need to talk about your seemingly blas attitude in respect to the seriousness of your injuries and refusal, at times, to allow Teyla to look at your wounds properly. She's not very happy with you at the moment."

John figured that was probably putting it mildly. Something Elizabeth had said earlier clicked and he asked, "What is McKay blaming himself for?" Before Elizabeth could answer, he added, "Those systems were severely damaged and very, very old. He did everything he could to get the lights on in the short time that he had."

"He doesn't seem to think so. He hasn't really said much about it specifically, but he has apparently been snapping at his science team members a _lot_ more than usual. I'm sure some of it is because he's been worried about you. Don't look so shocked," she quickly added at the surprised look on John's face. "He really does care about you. I think he even considers you a friend."

Chuckling, John said, "I'm honored." He said it as a joke, but in reality he was honored . . . and a bit surprised. The science geek didn't have many friends, and seemed to do his best to ensure no one would want to be. For reasons he didnt understand though, McKay listened to and seemed to respect him more than anyone else on Atlantis, even Elizabeth. Truthfully, it baffled him a bit. Underneath his "it's all about me" attitude, McKay really wasn't a bad guy. He really did care about people; he just didn't know how to show it. John had figured out that only a small part of McKay's attitude was actually his ego, the biggest part of it was a defense mechanism.

"Talk to him. He may not say it, but he respects you and values your opinion, probably more so than anyone else's here or on Earth. Maybe you can talk some sense into him."

Stifling a yawn, John told her, "Send him in. I'll talk to him."

Elizabeth nodded then seemed to reconsider. "I will, but not now. It can wait a few hours. Get some rest John. You're going to need it. On top of McKay, you have the rest of your team to deal with. There's a lot of guilt going around. In some way or another, each member of your team feels they've either disappointed or failed you."

Saying nothing, John stifled another yawn. He knew he needed to speak to Ford about disobeying orders and about the way he'd snapped at the young lieutenant. From his conversation with Elizabeth, he had an idea of what Teyla might be thinking as well. From what little he remembered about his team's visits since their return, it was pretty obvious what she was feeling guilty over, and that she was more upset with herself than she was with him. He definitely needed to talk to her. It wasn't her fault he was so stubborn. She'd done the best she could -better than most could have- given the difficult situation and hard-headed commanding officer she'd had to deal with.

Right now, though, all he wanted to do was sleep.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"You wanted to see me, sir," Ford stated as he came to attention, standing ramrod straight at the foot of John's bed.

Sighing, John took a deep breath and rubbed his hand over his face. Heart to heart conversations weren't exactly his forte. It didn't help that he felt like a bit of a hypocrite for what he was about to tell him. "At ease, Lieutenant. You're not in it that deep." Ford relaxed slightly and stood with his hands behind his back, feet sliding slightly apart. His facial expression didn't change a bit. Jeez, the kid looked like he was about to be crucified or something. Did the lieutenant really think he was that much of a hard ass? Trying to keep the frustration out of his voice, John added, "Seriously, Ford, relax! I'm not going to skin you or anything."

Grinning at the slight relaxing of the lieutenant's stance, John continued. "Look, I know you've had some additional responsibilities since I've been stuck in here, and you have a lot to do, so I'll make this quick. If you _ever_ disobey a direct order again, you'll be on KP duty for a very long time. If you ever drug me against my wishes again. . . ."

John took a deep breath then continued, "With that being said, you were right. I was in a lot of pain, did need to rest, and was being a stubborn pain in the ass."

"Sir! I never said-" Ford interrupted.

John held up a hand, halting the lieutenant's protest. "I know. Basically, what I'm trying to say is this; you did a great job out there. You stepped up and did what needed to be done in a very difficult situation. There is no one else in Atlantis I'd rather have covering my six."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Ford replied.

Ford's face was impassive, but John could see the smile in the young lieutenant's eyes. Just then, one of the SF's came into the infirmary and approached Ford. Seeing John was awake, he snapped to attention.

"Sir, good to see you awake, sir."

"Thanks, Franklin," John said as he noticed the man's name. When the SF said nothing further, John smiled and asked, "Is there something you needed, Sergeant?"

"Yes, sir, sorry, sir." He looked at Ford and said, "You're needed in the 'gate room, sir." Message delivered, the SF snapped off a quick salute, then turned smartly and left the infirmary.

Giving an exaggerated sigh, Ford said, "Sorry, sir, duty calls." He came to attention, nodded, and then turned to leave.

As he reached the door, John called out to him.

"Ford." When Ford stopped and faced him, John told him, "Do me a favor and tell Teyla I need to speak to her. Oh, and tell McKay to stop moping. He knows damn well none of this was his fault."

"Yes, sir."

Alone again, John settled back against his pillows.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

John was just beginning to nod off when Teyla entered the infirmary and approached his bed.

"If you wish to rest, I can return later," she said softly as his eyes snapped open.

"No, I'm fine" he quickly assured her.

Before he could say anything else, Teyla asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Been better, been a hell of a lot worse too. The whole bug thing, ya know? Anyway, thanks for . . . uh . . . looking out for me out there."

Teyla looked at him, wide-eyed, but said nothing.

"Don't look so surprised. You saved my life out there."

Again, Teyla said nothing, just stood silently by his side. She did seem to suddenly find either her shoes or something on the floor quite interesting. It did not go unnoticed by John that, while she had only looked downward when he said she'd saved his life, she had yet to look him in the eyes.

"I'm serious. Look at me."

"Has Doctor Beckett indicated when he will be releasing you from the infirmary?" she asked, looking up but still not meeting his gaze.

"Yeah, two days, maybe more," John answered, giving a dirty look to show his displeasure at having to stay in the infirmary.

"I am assuming you will be put on light duty for some time. Did he say how long?"

"About a two weeks, and stop changing the subject. Get this straight; none of this is your fault. Not me getting injured, not that you didn't realize that the claw got stuck in my side -hell, even _I_ didn't realize that- and not my wounds getting infected. You did the best anyone possibly could given the situation, our limited medical supplies, and the fact that you were dealing with a CO who was being a stubborn SOB." Smiling at Teyla's blank look, John clarified, "Son of a bitch."

"I should have checked you more thoroughly," Teyla stubbornly insisted. "I should have been more insistent on checking your wounds earlier and on cleaning them."

Shaking his head, John said, "Like I said, you did the best you, or anyone, could have in a very crappy situation. You're being way too hard on yourself. There is _nothing_ you could have done. You need to let it go, Teyla. Shit happens."

Silent for several moments, Teyla appeared to ponder over John's words before responding. "Thank you, John. You are correct; it was a very difficult situation for all of us. If it had been anyone else in my position and their actions had been the same as mine, I would not be so hard on them."

"Right-" John nodded in agreement. "Now, is McKay still moping around and blaming himself for not being able to get the lights up all the way?"

For the first time since entering the infirmary, Teyla smiled. "No, he is not. Aidan did speak to him briefly. I believe, as you would say, that he has 'gotten over it'."

"Good. It's about time." Smiling broadly, John asked, "So, what do you think the chances are of sneaking me outta here early? I'm going stir-crazy here!"

_THE END_

End Notes: Well, after a little over ayear, I've _finally_ finished this! Again, many thanks to Cheryl and Annie who beta'd this for me, and were _very_ helpful and patient. Also, a HUGE thanks to everyone who has read this fic and those who reviewed it!


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